Get It Together
by Arpad Hrunta
Summary: Josh tells Leo his reasons for not bringing Donna onto the campaign, and Leo gives Josh something to think about. Then Leo gives Donna something to think about. Post-ep to the first nine episodes of Season 7, although it begins to go AU after Chapter 3, rather more so in Chapter 7a. No longer a one-shot. Part 7a of probably 10 is up.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I own neither the characters nor the universe of _The West Wing_, and make no such claim upon them. I'm simply having some fun here.

Get It Together

_July 30, 2006_

It had been a long week.

Just over a week after the end of the Democratic National Convention, Josh Lyman was frustrated. The White House was not only not cooperating with the Santos/McGarry campaign, but seemed to be trying to actively sabotage it. Leo McGarry was struggling as a candidate. Getting a coherent campaign narrative was proving to be far more difficult than Josh expected. He was having problems with personnel – Josh was starting to figure out who on the campaign was effective, who needed guidance, who was dead weight. Finding qualified staffers was difficult – and finding qualified staffers he could actually hire was even more difficult. If only...

Josh sighed, ran his hand through his unruly hair, and refocused. No time to thing about that. _California. Think about California._

He sat at his desk at Santos/McGarry headquarters, at half past midnight, looking over the latest polling data from the Golden State. It had been instrumental for Matthew Santos in the primaries, and if Joey Lucas' numbers were right (which they usually were) the race in California was far closer than Josh would have expected. The state's demographics and political culture should have made it a naturally Democratic state, and Josiah Bartlet had easily won the state in both of his elections, but the Republican Party's predilection for nominating Californians gave them the state in both of Owen Lassiter's elections, and looked to put it in Arnold Vinick's column in November. Josh couldn't decide whether to gamble and throw campaign money and time into California, or to write it off and concentrate on states like Illinois and Michigan.

Native-son factor versus fifty-five electoral votes...

"Hell of a week, huh, kid?"

Josh looked up to see Leo McGarry in the doorway of his office.

"Hey. You're here late."

"Says the man burning the midnight oil on a Saturday night," Leo said. "I got back from Santa Fe about an hour ago. Thought I'd stop in before I went home."

"How'd it go?"

"Let's just say that running for office is very different from being in your position. It'll get better."

Josh sighed. He knew that having Leo as the Vice Presidential candidate wouldn't be easy at first – for either Leo or for the campaign. His past with addiction had come up immediately, but in a way that was a good thing – everything with Leo was a matter of public record, and if it came up now, right at the beginning, it would be less of an issue later on. And at least it was public, thank God, and there wouldn't be any October Surprises the Republicans had ready to spring on the electorate. Not about Leo, at least.

But it wasn't easy going for anyone. Leo had never run for elected office, and Josh knew that for all his knowledge and political savvy, it was another thing entirely for Leo to be out there in front of the cameras. He was stumbling badly out of the gate, although he had improved his performance, even in the space of a week. Josh knew Leo would improve further. He was Leo McGarry after all.

"Better you than me, Leo," Josh said.

Leo laughed. "I bet you could do this if you put your mind to it. If I can, you can. Having Annabeth to guide me helps a lot."

"She's working out?"

"Yeah. We're lucky to have her. It's all about getting the right people," Leo said, pulling up a chair in front of Josh's desk and sitting down. "Speaking of which, did I see Lou Thornton's name on the office next door?"

"The Congressman hired her yesterday. We need her, Leo. We need a media strategist."

"I thought you didn't like her. After that thing where Jenkins beat your guy Alcott."

"She has a..."

Leo interrupted. "And where Janice Martell beat Philip Brady."

"Despite that..."

"That one was two to one, wasn't it?"

Josh put his face in his hands. "Leo! That's... look. We need her. We need someone to craft a message, and the only people in her league are Toby and Mandy."

"You ever think of getting her on board?"

"Who, Mandy?" Josh shuddered involuntarily. "No. Mandy doesn't play well with others. Lou Thornton just doesn't play nice with me."

"How's she going to work for you, then?"

Josh retrieved a bottle of club soda from his mini-fridge, and poured he and Leo each a glass. "She made it a condition of her employment that she reports directly to the Congressman. Her strategies, her ideas, her hires... they don't go through me at all."

"Josh," Leo said in a slightly annoyed tone, "you can't let people run roughshod over you. You're the campaign manager. You have to be in charge."

There was a bitter note in Josh's laugh. "Tell that to the Congressman. He makes his own decisions, sometimes without consulting me. He's his own man, Leo. It's part of the reason he's my guy."

"That's gotta be a pain at times."

The bitterness was slightly more pronounced this time. "Yeah. Yeah it is. But better him than a human sock puppet like Bingo Bob. I'd ten times rather have a candidate with ideas and an independent streak than a hollow shell of a candidate like that. But it's not like you and the President, Leo. The Congressman and I are still getting to know each other."

"He wouldn't have come this far without you, Josh. He wouldn't have been anywhere at all without you."

"Yeah. Yeah, I know. And at least Lou's smart and talented. God forbid he gave that kind of leeway to some idiot. I can work with Lou, even if we're never going to sing 'Kumbaya' together."

Leo laughed. "Any other hires I should know about?"

"I'm still working on it. I got Edie Ortega as my deputy."

"Yeah, I know. She was good over at the Minority Leader's office. Helped us out with the Clean Air and Water Act."

"She thinks we can get Lester Monroe."

"I thought he was with CBS these days?" Leo asked.

"Apparently he misses the lifestyle."

"God knows why," Leo laughed. "He was damn good with Hoynes eight years ago."

"Yeah. He didn't seem to hate me after I left, so hopefully Edie can get him."

"That's great." Leo took a long drink of the club soda, and waited a minute before continuing. "I heard Donna was here."

Josh bristled. "Leo..."

"I assume it wasn't just to say hello."

"Leo, I don't really want to..."

"And I haven't seen her out there, so I'm guessing you told her no."

Josh ran his hand through his hair, frustrated. "Yes. I mean, I told her no."

Leo shook his head. "You can't make things personal."

"It wasn't personal. It was political."

"Josh..."

"For God's sake, Leo, do you think I wouldn't hire someone the campaign could use for personal reasons?"

Leo considered this. "No. I don't think you would hire someone unless you thought you were doing the right thing politically."

"Thank you."

"Even though you're completely wrong about it not being personal."

"Leo! She spent months... _months_!... trashing the Congressman, belittling him, making personal attacks, claiming he was unqualified."

"I seem to recall you doing the same to the Vice President, Josh."

"Yes I did," Josh said, exasperated. "But two things, Leo. One, I was right. Bingo Bob is all hat, all boots, no brains. And Two: if Russell had won, I wouldn't have been knocking on Will Bailey's door four days after the convention asking for a job as his deputy!"

"Deputy? That's what she asked for?" Leo said.

"Yeah. I know."

"That takes..."

"Chutzpah?" Josh interrupted.

"Yeah. Makes sense, though. She did great on the campaign."

"She was amazing," Josh said, almost reverently.

"She's smart... she's got a Ph.D at Josh Lyman University. Why can't you hire her?"

"Because of what she said, Leo!"

Leo sighed, exasperated. "It was the primaries."

"It doesn't matter. She trashed our candidate, Leo. She attacked him. Personal attacks Leo."

"That's the job, Josh. It's the game."

Josh leaned back. "Yeah. It's the game. And one of the rules of the game is that when you trash somebody, they might not hire you. One of the rules is that things you say have consequences. At the beginning of the campaign, Will Bailey told me not to go negative, or they wouldn't be able to hire me when Russell won. It's not a surprise, Leo, and Donna damn well knew that, too. They went negative first."

"So she went negative. So what?"

"Come on, Leo. Would you have hired Hoynes' spokesman back in '98, four days after the convention? Would you have made him your deputy after what Hoynes' people said about the President during the campaign? Calling him a lightweight, calling him an egghead who should stick to economics lectures, calling him a left-wing, out-of-touch New England elitist who didn't know a damn thing about the needs or wants of real Americans?"

Leo didn't hesitate. "No, I wouldn't have."

"Exactly. Can you imagine what the Republicans would say? They'd use her sound bites against us, make us look like idiots for having her on the team, and make Democrats look like hypocrites," Josh said, standing and pacing about the room.

"We could spin it. What she said? It's the game, Josh."

"Yeah, I know. It's the game. You know it. I know it. She knows it. Will knows it. _Sheila Brooks_ and Vinick's spin machine know it. Every damn operative, commentator, and journalist from here to Seattle knows it, but it doesn't change the game Leo, and it doesn't change the way it's played! You don't trash the other guy, and then expect him to hire you!" Josh stopped and sighed. "We could spin it, I know. We could spend precious time and resources defending her, justifying hiring her, taking the campaign off-message for who knows how long. Or, we could _not_ hire her and not have to do any of it!"

Leo shook his head. "I think you're overestimating things, Josh. More likely, the Republicans wouldn't notice or care. The public probably wouldn't."

"I'm not going to gamble the campaign over 'likely' and 'probably', Leo, not..."

"_Gamble the campaign_? You think hiring Donna _Moss _would gamble the campaign? Seriously, Josh..."

Josh ran his fingers through his hair. "Yeah. Yeah. Maybe. But why risk it?"

"Because she's good? Because she knows her stuff?"

"It doesn't make up for half a year of shilling for God-damned _Bingo Bob_! I got new people out there who believe in Matt Santos. I got people out there who've been with us for months, since you could fit the whole campaign into a station wagon, who believe in Matt Santos. I'm supposed to ask them to trust someone who spent six months telling the country she thought Matt Santos was a worse choice for president than Bob _Russell_? How would they do that, Leo? How would they trust her if I put her in the kind of position she's earned? She deserves? A position where she'd be giving orders to people who never thought Bingo Bob should be within a hundred miles of the Oval Office?"

"They'll trust her when they see that you trust her, Josh," Leo said softly.

Josh said nothing.

"You _do_ trust her, don't you?" Leo asked. "Josh?"

Josh ran his hands through his hair.

"How do I know she's not going to just leave me before we're done?" Josh asked.

"Leave _you_?"

Josh sighed. "I mean the campaign."

Leo shook his head. "Look. I don't know exactly what happened with you two – you don't talk about it, I haven't really run into Donna since then, and all I know is what I've heard from others, but from what I can see, she left one job that was winding down in a year and tried to help get a decent man elected President."

"Decent? Bingo Bob is an unqualified..."

"And you did the same thing."

"You and the President told me to!" Josh said, exasperated.

"Yes we did. But it's still the same thing. Now, you made a better choice, thank God for that. But her leaving her job shouldn't make a difference in whether you trust her or not, not after all you've been through, and all you've done for each other. You know you work well together."

"Yeah, but..."

"Don't overlook the personal component, Josh. I've learned over the years how important that is. It's not everything - you don't want to bring someone on unless they're the best - but it's why the President and I worked so well together, why you brought Sam on, why Toby hired CJ, why you brought Donna into the White House in the first place. Because you know them, and you trust them."

"So you think my not hiring Donna was personal, but I should hire her _because _it's personal?"

Leo nodded.

"So whatever I do, it's personal!"

Leo as if Josh was a particular dim child. "With Donna, Josh, it's always personal for you. Either way, what you do or don't do is up to you. You're the campaign manager. You made some excellent points for why you thought you couldn't hire her, but I think it won't be the scandal you think it is. But you need to be comfortable with your decision."

"Yeah," said Josh, a contemplative look on his face.

Leo looked appraisingly at Josh. "You never said whether you still trust her. After the last eight years, I can't imagine why you wouldn't."

"It's not... it's not that I don't trust her politically. I just don't know if I could... if we could ever work together like we used to. I trusted her with my life, Leo, but the way she left... she didn't even give me a letter of resignation! She just got mad and quit!"

"And you were completely innocent in this?" Leo asked skeptically.

"Well, maybe not _completely_, but..."

"Josh, I've never known quite what was going on with you two. You've been through hell together, over and over, and there have been times I thought you and she would... well, anyway. Remember that Christmas I asked you to help get the Church of the Nativity open?"

"I do," Josh said. The truth was that night had never been far from his mind for years, but this year he had tried not to dwell on it, just like he tried not to think of so many other nights and conversations.

"I told you to get it together, then. You _really_ need to get it together now. The Congressman, the Party, all of us, we're all counting on you. Whatever you decide, make the decision and move on." Leo's voice took on a more fatherly tone. "But make sure you talk with her, whatever you do."

"She's the one who quit, Leo. She stopped talking to me."

"So what? Step up. It's too easy to just not talk, to not fix things, to just focus on work. Then one day you wake up and you don't know each other at all any more. It happened to me. Don't let it happen to you."

"Leo, we're not... it's not like you and Jenny," Josh said, almost sadly.

"Are you sure? Look at it this way – she tried to come back. She opened the door."

"I told her I missed her every day, and she said nothing. It meant _nothing_ to her," Josh said, trying to keep the despair from his voice.

Leo had his 'are you stupid?' expression as he spoke. "Somehow I doubt that. Hire her, don't hire her, talk to her, don't talk to her. It's up to you, Josh, but I can't see how not hiring her and not talking to her will make you any happier. Or her. We need you in the game, Josh, not brooding or wallowing. Now go home," he said, clapping Josh on the shoulder as her turned and left the room.

As Josh sat there in the silence of the night, he thought about what Leo had said. He still didn't think he could hire Donna, not with her catalogue of quotes against Santos. He also didn't know if he could talk to Donna and have a real conversation with her. Not after the interview earlier in the week. Not after half a year of awkwardness. Not after her leaving him, leaving a hole in his life, a hole in his heart. Maybe not talking with her wouldn't making him happier. But if he reached out to her, and things continued the way they had been, he would feel much, much worse. And he didn't know whether he could take feeling any worse than he already did.

He got up, shut off the lights, and left headquarters. As he walked to his car, he tried to decide whether to call her or not. Whether to risk it. It was too late tonight, but maybe he'd call her tomorrow. Maybe he'd talk about putting her on the campaign, in a low-profile position to start with. Maybe he'd see if they could get back some of what they used to have.

Maybe he would be brave enough to reach out.

Maybe.


	2. Chapter 2

_[Author's Note: The idea for this chapter came largely from Chai4anne, who wanted to see Leo have a similar discussion with Donna to the one he had with Josh in the first chapter. Hence, this. Hopefully it works as well as I hoped it would be. Part three will come ideally sooner rather than later.]_

* * *

><p><em>September 7, 2006<em>

Democratic Vice Presidential candidate Leo McGarry once again found himself at Santos/McGarry headquarters late at night, after the first of three marathon debate preparations with Congressman Matthew Santos at a hastily rented hall outside Alexandria. Unlike Jed Bartlet, Santos did not have a vast secluded farm to retreat to for short-notice debate preparation, and Leo was certain Santos hadn't really been thinking of the preparation venue when he had made the debate agreement with Arnie Vinick last night.

Leo saw that Matthew Santos was a smart, earnest, tough and idealistic man who had greatness within him, but he wasn't a natural strategist, and his insistence on making decisions without consulting his advisors often had unforeseen consequences. His instincts were generally good, but sometimes he didn't think of the ramifications of his decisions, or if he did, didn't think of the problems they sometimes caused. A three-day debate preparation period was one of them. Another one was one of the faces at the debate prep today.

Leo didn't envy Josh Lyman. Jed Bartlet was even more stubborn and independent then Matt Santos, but Leo had decades of friendship with the man and was often able to restrain some of his wilder impulses, usually at the cost of watching some of Jed's other impulses run wild. This usually worked out quite well – two general election victories were proof enough of that. Josh and Santos, however, had only really known one another for about a year, and while they worked well together, there wasn't the inherent trust that Jed had with Leo. Santos didn't rely on his campaign manager, didn't consult with his campaign manager, to the same degree Jed had. So far that had worked out well enough. Leo was certain, however, that Santos wasn't taking advantage of Josh's abilities the way he could. The way he should.

Not that Josh was really coming across at his best these days. Especially these last two days. The kid was too distracted. Too... sad.

And he was probably still here once again, burning himself out instead of getting the rest he obviously needed. Leo thought that what Josh really needed was an assistant – someone to look after him, someone to bring him food and coffee and keep him organized and stop him from driving himself to exhaustion and madness. At first he couldn't understand why Josh wouldn't hire one, especially after the convention when the campaign could obviously afford one. Then he thought about it _why_ Josh wouldn't hire an assistant, and the reason became obvious.

When he entered the campaign manager's office, Leo was unsurprised to see Josh at his desk, looking maudlin, drinking from a coffee cup which probably had a more potent liquid in it.

"You should go home, Josh. Get some rest. It's another big day tomorrow."

Josh looked up. "Hey, Leo. I'm just having a drink. Or two."

Leo looked in Josh's cup and frowned. "You think this is the best time for that stuff, kid? You need to be at your best tomorrow."

"What's the matter with having a drink to celebrate and unwind?"

"You're celebrating," Leo said disbelievingly.

"You bet I am. The Congressman's going to be ready, I think. I mean, he was exce... excellel... dammit! _Excellent_ during the debates with Russell, but this is Arnie Vinick he's up against. He's got to be prepared... and he's going to be. He's good Leo."

Leo noticed for the first time how red Josh's eyes were. He wasn't quite _drunk_, and Leo McGarry of all people knew the signs, but he was on the way. There was more than Maker's Mark behind that redness, though, Leo was certain.

"I know he is. It's just that you've never handled whiskey well..."

"It's only my second drink..."

"We've all heard about your sensitive sys..."

"Dammit, can you not call it that?" Josh exclaimed, running his hand through his already messy hair.

"Fine. But I know a thing or two about having a drink... or two... when you're feeling that way. You don't want to end up where I've been, is all I'm saying."

"I won't. And what's the matter with celebrating?"

"Josh. Don't try to pull that crap on me." At Josh's look of confusion, Leo looked straight at him like he was a six-year old boy. "I take it you didn't talk to her? Fix things?"

Josh's answer was quick – quicker than it probably would have been without Kentucky's finest in him. "You can't fix things with someone who doesn't _care_, Leo! She's made it perfectly clear she doesn't give a _damn_ whether things are better between us or not, and that she doesn't give a damn what I think!" he shouted as he took to his feet.

"Josh, Donna Moss certainly cares about what you think of her."

"Yeah... I told you, she didn't care when I told her I missed her every day, Leo! It was just about the job for her. As soon as I said I wasn't going to hire her, she left. Then when Goddamn _Lou_ hires her – and of course _I _don't get a say, why should I? I'm just the fucking campaign manager – when _Lou_ hires her, _knowing_ she was against us in the primaries, what does Donna tell me? That all the years we worked together meant... meant _nothing_. That they were _useless_." Josh was now practically spitting the words with anger.

"Donna wouldn't say that," Leo said, unable to believe.

"No, she didn't say exactly that. But she called the years we were together... I mean, the years we _worked_ together 'grunt-level servitude'. Said I had her working as a short order cook. Apparently, the best years of my life were just a fucking waste of time for her," Josh said.

"She can't believe that, Josh. You taught her everything she knows about politics..."

"Not according to her. She said Goddamn Will Fucking _Bailey_ taught her everything."

"No..."

Josh's laugh was bitter and aimed squarely at himself. "She did. I complimented her on how good she had gotten, back when you were pressuring the Congressman to sign up as Russell's VP candidate, and she was pointing out all the reasons it would be a bad idea."

Leo winced at the memory of trying to get Russell and Santos on the same ticket. It had seemed like such a good idea at the time.

Josh continued in the same bitter tone. "I won't forget what she said as long as I live. I asked her how she got so good at politics, and she said... she told me she had a good teacher. I thanked her, and then she smiles and said 'I meant Will'. '_I meant Will_'! She didn't learn a damn thing from me, if you ask her. I just taught her to burn hamburgers. Didn't even give her a spatula or something. Whatever that means."

Leo was incredulous. He knew that things had been tense between Josh and Donna – that was the reason he had suggested Josh call her, and try to see the reasons he could hire her – but he had thought it was mostly Josh's stubbornness, and misplaced hurt, that held him back. He hadn't realized the extent of what had gone on, or that Josh might have legitimate reasons to not want to reach out. He certainly hadn't realized that Donna had apparently struck at what Josh saw as the heart of his relationship with her.

"Josh..." he began sympathetically, but was cut off by Josh holding up his hand.

"I know. 'Get it together'. I'm trying, Leo. She's a great addition to the staff, I know that. She's amazing. I always knew she'd be amazing..." Leo tried speaking again, but Josh interrupted him once more. "I'm trying to be professional. It's just hard, know you. I thought we had something that mattered to her like it did to me. I guess I was wrong. I've been wrong a lot these last few years," he said sadly. Josh put on his jacket. "I'm going to go home, I think. Have to focus for tomorrow. I'll call a cab, don't worry." Josh said, leaving the room.

Leo sat down, stunned. He had never seen Josh back down from a challenge, or seen him so full of despair. Not when he thought the President was going to fire him after the Mary Marsh incident, not after Chris Carrick's party switch, not when the Santos campaign looked like it would collapse in the early primary season. Not even after he was shot, or during the PTSD incident that terrible Christmas afterwards. The closest Leo had ever seen Josh to looking like he did tonight was just after he got word of the bombing in Gaza, or when he was a little boy after the fire that killed Joanie Lyman.

Leo realized he'd been approaching Josh all wrong about this. He had generally found the proverbial stick a more effective motivational tool to use on Josh Lyman than the carrot. Josh had a tremendous need to prove himself – something that undoubtedly came from surviving the fire that killed Joanie – and a wish to never disappoint those he loved and admired. His parents. Leo. The President. Donna. Leo had used the threat of disappointment, the withdrawal of privileges, the setting of impossible tasks to motivate Josh with great effect over the last eight years. As time went on, however, he noticed it started to be less of a spur to greater things, and more of a burden for Josh. It probably went back to the Carrick Affair, and how Leo had cut Josh out of the loop after that. He still felt a little guilty about that, but it did all work out in the end. By the time Leo was pressuring Josh to get Santos to sign on as Russell's Vice Presidential candidate, however, it didn't work anymore. Still, Leo thought that was the way to motivate Josh into doing something about Donna a month ago. It had usually worked in the past.

It hadn't this time, and when Leo wanted to encourage Josh after he mentioned Donna's spatula comment, wanted to show sympathy with Josh, Josh instinctively thought he was being admonished. Leo wasn't happy with what that said about Josh's expectations of him.

Leo had been unaware of how deep the rift between Josh and Donna ran. He had had no idea of the things Donna had said to him, and how much Josh had been hurt by them. Leo wondered whether Josh would ever get over it. A tiny part of him wondered whether Josh even should, but... no. He shook his head. He was absolutely convinced Donna's reactions came from the same hurt place Josh's reluctance to mend things did. He knew this estrangement between Josh and Donna needed to be fixed or Josh would never be the same, just like he himself hadn't been the same since Jenny left. And while he didn't know Donna nearly as well as he did Josh, she was sure it was the same for her.

Well. If Josh wasn't going to approach Donna, Leo was going to have to talk to her himself. It wasn't something he was at all comfortable doing – even saying "Get it together" was more involved than he was truly comfortable with – but he felt he had to. He owed it to them. To his old friend Noah. To Josh, who was as close to a son a Leo was ever likely to get. And to Donna, who had for so long been Josh's right hand and had given her all for seven years to the Bartlet administration. He had to help them set this right.

* * *

><p><em>September 9, 2006<em>

Leo didn't have a chance to talk to Donna until the day before the debate. He had spent the Friday making campaign appearances in Wilmington, Delaware and Trenton and Newark, New Jersey, before returning to Washington. He was starting to enjoy making campaign appearances, and if he wasn't yet a natural on the platform, he was at least improving noticeably. Partly this was Leo's natural gregariousness overcoming his inexperience. Partly it was the result of half a lifetime of talking policy and politics. Leo might not have been one to talk hope and idealism – Matt Santos was far better at that – but Leo McGarry would tell the crowds what Matt Santos was going to **do**, how he would do it, and what practical effects it would have.

And partly it was due to Annabeth Schott, who was basically his media and speech advisor at that point. They had worked well together since they strong-armed the convention into some semblance of order. She was a weird little pixie, to be sure, but she was what Leo knew only he could really get away with calling someone these days – a classy dame. He thought maybe if she had been on their radar back at the beginning, the Administration could have hired her as a media consultant instead of Mandy Hampton, and then maybe the last seven years would have been easier. Not that Mandy didn't know her stuff, but she never clicked with the team, other than with Josh... and even their relationship didn't translate to a smooth working relationship. Especially after it collapsed. Annabeth, though, got along. Hell, she worked well with _Toby_, for God's sake, and if anyone could work well with him... Leo stopped himself from thinking about the former Communications Director, and his betrayal. He'd deal with his thoughts on _that_ after the campaign.

If they could actually pull this thing off and get into the White House, Leo was certain Annabeth would find as good a position with a Santos Administration as she had with the Bartlet Administration, if she wanted it. They worked well together, though, so Leo was thinking of offering her a high-level position on the Vice Presidential staff, if they won.

If they won. A possibility that tomorrow's debate would make possible – or make impossible.

So there they all were, in a community hall in Falls Church, Virginia. Matt Santos was at one podium, answering questions posed to him by Bram Howard, who was playing Forrest Sawyer's moderator role. Edie Ortega was at the other podium, acting as Arnold Vinick. Leo, Lou Thornton, Josh, Annabeth and Donna were observing, offering suggestions at the Congressman's answers, occasionally getting into arguments with one another about the best way to engage the audience and not get tripped up. Lou was unsurprisingly the most vocal, but all the staffers gave their opinions on the matter as the morning progressed.

Josh and Donna had had a couple of exchanges while arguing about answers and how to present them. To everyone else, they were just the normal arguments disagreeing staffers had. But Leo, as the only one who really knew the two of them, heard how clipped and terse they were. Josh was obviously trying his best to not show any frustration with Donna, but his body language and tone betrayed the tension Leo knew he felt. Leo sensed this, and was certain Donna did too. Donna's responses were equally tense, and more obviously frustrated than Josh's were. Leo thought she hadn't caught the most important thing Leo noticed about her arguments with Josh – the respect and consideration Josh was giving her opinions, even the ones he disagreed with. He argued, but he considered them.

For the third time that morning, and probably the tenth since Thursday, Lou shouted, "Look, Congressman, you have to address either 'Forrest' here," she said, gesturing to Bram, "or the camera. Don't turn to face 'Beltway Arnie' there. You're not really debating him."

"But it's a _debate!_" Santos said, exasperated. "That's the point!"

"Not with this format. It's question and answer," Lou said.

"It's a stupid format."

"It's what we could get."

"Josh, you should call Sheila Brooks and try and change that," Santos said.

"Congressman..." Josh began, but was interrupted by Lou throwing down her pen.

"This is what Brooks negotiated, Congressman. It's too late to change it. This is the format. It's what we got. So stop looking at Bram! It's between you and 80 million Americans, not you and Vinick," Lou shouted.

"_How_ can it not be between – " Santos began, shouting himself, while at the same time, Josh turned to Lou.

"Lou..." Josh said in a warning voice, "don't talk that way to the Cong– "

Leo spoke up. "Time for lunch, I think, right Congressman?"

"Yeah. Yeah, I think we could all use a break," Santos said, leaving the podium.

Annabeth got up. "Join me for lunch? I saw a decent Italian place not far from here," she asked quietly.

Leo shook his head. "I want to talk to Donna," he answered equally quietly.

"Should I be jealous?" she asked with a grin.

"Nah. Just want to see how she's doing since she joined the team."

"That's sweet. Maybe talk to her about all the tension." Leo kept his face expressionless. Annabeth continued. "You know what I'm talking about. I'm not blind, you know." She smiled, squeezed his arm, and went over to Josh. "You need cannelloni," she declared to the campaign manager, pulling him up and leading him out of the hall, throwing a smile to Leo over her shoulder as they left.

Leo walked over to Donna, who was organizing her copious index cards. "How are you doing?" he asked.

Donna smiled widely at Leo. "Hey Leo... I mean, Mr. Secretary," she said, correcting herself.

Leo smiled. "Just Leo, Donna." He held up a hand to interrupt her. "I know. We have to call Matt Santos 'Congressman', but you've known me for eight years, and I'm not the one running for president."

"Right," she said. "You did really well in Wilmington yesterday – I liked how you not only made it clear you have experience with foreign policy, but brought it back to the Congressman's experience with military affairs, and his experience in the Middle East when he was a Marine."

"Yeah, it's not so much of a train wreck as it was back in July. What are you doing for lunch?" he asked, switching topics.

"I was going to go over Ray Sullivan's statements on immigration from his term as Governor and see if I can find anything from when he was in the West Virginia House of Delegates."

"Nah. Do that later. Come for lunch with me – there's a hole-in-the-wall diner a few blocks from here that makes the best Monte Cristos in Falls Church. We haven't talked in a long time – I want to see how you're doing."

Donna hesitated for a moment and then said, "O.K.," and followed Leo out of the hall.

The diner was very small – there were only about six booths. Leo bought them each a Monte Cristo and a salad. Sitting down he said, "I know I shouldn't eat these things since the heart attack, but I've been a good boy for days, and everyone deserves a treat now and then. And they really do make them the best here."

Donna took a bite of her sandwich. "My God," she said, covering her hand with her mouth as she spoke. "Thish ish dewicious."

"The key is the cheese. They use real, fresh Gruyère here. It's the little touches that count," Leo said, opening up his sandwich and spreading some Dijon mustard on the inside. "How are you liking the campaign?"

"I think we have a real shot at winning this," Donna said. "The Congressman likes to go off-script a little too much – that's making my job more interesting! – but he's really a great candidate. Working up close with him, I can really see what... what everyone saw in him."

"Yeah, I feel rather guilty about pushing Josh so hard to get him to sign on to the Vice President's ticket, especially after he tapped my shoulder."

Donna shook her head. "It wouldn't have worked, a Russell-Santos ticket. The Vice President had the experience to be at the top of the ticket, but the Congressman would have overshadowed him. That's what I told J... people. The Vice President still thought the unity ticket with the Congressman was a better choice, though."

"You were pushing for Baker?"

Donna nodded. "Baker would have worked. Wouldn't have overshadowed the Vice President."

"Well, good thing we have Matt Santos at the top of the ticket."

"Yeah, it all worked out," Donna said, neutrally.

"You really believed in Russell," Leo said.

"I honestly thought he was the best choice we had at the time," Donna said. "Russell versus Hoynes? No question. Hoynes had more substantive legislation under his belt than Russell, and a higher profile with the party, but his negatives? Adultery, revealing secrets to impress women, all the constituencies he'd alienated over the years, his antagonistic relationship with the White House? The Vice President may not have been an idea man, but he's a good Democrat, he tried to support the President's agenda as best he could, he had good relationships with both parties in Congress, and no one hated him. He was by far the best choice – the only _real_ choice – right up until Super Tuesday."

Leo was enjoying Donna's analysis of the primaries. "What about after Super Tuesday?"

Donna considered this. "I thought either Bob Russell or Matt Santos would have been a good choice. And realistically, the _only_ reason the Congressman got that far was his staff."

Leo noted Donna had yet to refer to Josh by name. "What about that ad in New Hampshire?"

"That was crucial, no question. But without the national campaign experience that Matt Santos had access to, he wouldn't have been able to consolidate that bump into meaningful numbers. It was only once his campaign was able to get the Congressman some traction and some name recognition that he became a viable choice. Charisma, vision and some interesting ideas don't count for anything at the national level if no one knows who you are," Donna said.

"Think the Vice President will ever run for the nomination again?" Leo asked.

Donna covered her mouth again as she spoke. "It really depends on how we do now, I think. If Vinick wins, I think Bob Russell becomes the presumptive front-runner for the nomination next time."

"Again."

Donna laughed. "There is that. If the Congressman wins, on the other hand..."

"Who's going to remember Bob Russell in 2014?" Leo asked.

"Exactly. But I still wouldn't write him off. He's a better politician than some people think, even if he's never going to be the next Lincoln, FDR, or Jed Bartlet," Donna said.

They ate in silence for a few moments.

"How do you like working with the staff?" Leo asked.

He could tell Donna was considering her answer. "They're all pretty good. Lou Thornton's interesting to work for. I only knew about her through... I only knew about her second hand. She's driven... outspoken. I like her. Edie I don't know well, but she seems to know what she's doing. Bram is... young, but enthusiastic. I don't really know Ronna yet. And Annabeth is just like she was at the White House last year – she knows what she's doing and is very sweet."

The missing name, the name she'd avoided saying throughout the meal, hung between them. Leo wasn't about to let it go unaddressed.

"How's working with Josh again?"

Donna scoffed – probably inadvertently, Leo thought, but she didn't try to retract it.

"We're not working together. I report to Lou, not Josh."

"I know what the Org Chart says, Donna, but I've run one of these before, you may remember. Despite how the lines go, you work for Josh. You all work for Josh. Sometimes I think _we_ all work for Josh," he said with one of his grins that he thought was sure to make her smile.

It did not. "Either way, we're not really working together."

Leo shook his head. "I'm sure that's just because of all the debate prep."

"Leo, I don't really want to talk about Josh."

"Tough, kiddo. You're part of the team, and we have to talk about this. You worked together for nearly eight years. You were the best team we had in the White House, bar none – not even Ed and Larry worked as well together as you and Josh. You're going to throw that away because, what, you're having a little fight?"

Donna raised her voice. "He doesn't want..." She stopped, and looked around. The two other sets of diners – neither, thankfully, from the campaign – appeared not to be paying attention to them. She resumed, more softly, but just as intense. "He doesn't want to work with me, Leo. He doesn't want me there. He's made that perfectly clear. He doesn't think I'm up to the job. Look at how he kept attacking what I said today!"

"He was arguing with you. He might not have agreed with you all the time, but he wasn't dismissing you. You of all people know that if Josh didn't think what you said mattered, he wouldn't take the time to argue," Leo said.

"That's just because he's had his face rubbed in the fact that I'm good at this. I'm _good_ at this, Leo."

Leo smiled proudly at Donna. "I know you are. I always thought you would be. And Josh knows you're good, too, or he wouldn't waste time arguing with you."

"Did he tell you that?" Donna asked.

Leo nodded. "He said you were amazing."

Donna looked surprised, and unexpectedly wistful, Leo thought. "If he really thinks I'm amazing, why wouldn't he hire me? Why did he object to Lou hiring me this week? He's just an ass. I'm sorry, Leo, I know you're close, but he is," Donna said in a downcast tone.

"I'm not as close to Josh as you are," Leo said softly.

Donna scoffed again, deliberately this time. "Yeah. Real close. He didn't even want to work with me again, after all those years. I should have known. I thought we were... maybe... I thought we were at least _friends_, still."

"You and Josh really need to talk, Donna."

"I think Josh and I have talked quite enough, Leo. I'm just going to do my job, and work for Lou."

"Damn it, Donna, I've had just about enough of the two of you," he said, losing patience.

"Talk to Josh, then," she said defiantly.

"I did. He thinks you hate him."

"He thinks I hate _him_? He hates _me!_"

"Have to talked to him? For example, what did Josh say when you talked about why you quit?" Leo asked. Donna cast her eyes downward. "You've never talked to him about it, have you?"

"No! He didn't want to talk! I _tried_, Leo, I tried for _weeks_, and he just ignored me. I wanted more from my job, I wanted to advance in my career, I didn't want to spend my whole like picking up his dry cleaning, for God's sake, but he just blew me off, over and over. He held me back, Leo."

"He held you back," he repeated incredulously.

"Yes."

"He stopped you from applying for jobs?"

"No."

"He refused job transfers you submitted?"

"No, but..."

"He gave bad recommendations to potential employers?"

"No, but... I asked him for _years_ for more, Leo! And he did nothing!"

Leo shook his head. "Josh gave you more than anyone else at your level got, Donna. You went to North Dakota on behalf of the White House. You took meetings for Josh – like that one when Sam was running in the California 47th – "

"With a _Communist_!"

"Yeah, but Josh didn't know that. And Communists are our constituents too, much as we might disagree with them. He had you take other meetings for him, too, handle sensitive issues – I seem to recall some sterling work you did on pardons a few years back. Look, you think Bonnie or Ginger was given the responsibility you got? Or even Margaret? Josh asked for those opportunities for you. And I know it turned out horribly, but he got you the Gaza trip."

Donna looked down at her hands. "He got me that trip to shut me up, Leo. It wasn't... it wasn't a real assignment."

"Donna, Josh fought damn hard to get you that trip. I didn't want to send you – we had a press guy going, but Josh argued you deserved the opportunity to get some first hand experience. He argued that the White House would get more out of sending you than sending C.J.'s guy, more than just someone in the copy room. I didn't want to agree to it – C.J.'s guy was due for a trip – but Josh argued very forcefully that you would be better. And you were." At Donna's surprised expression, Leo said softly, "Before the explosion, you took the time to actually explore the issues in Gaza. To look around, to do exactly what Josh told me you could do. What you would do. He showed me your emails, Donna, while you were in Germany. Both when he was there with you and after he came back. He used them to back up his arguments when we were working out the peace deal at Camp David."

Donna looked stunned.

"He got you everything he could, Donna, everything we could reasonably give an assistant."

"It wasn't enough," she said quietly. "Being an assistant wasn't enough."

"Did he know?"

"I tried to tell him, Leo, for _weeks_. And he just kept blowing me off."

Leo smiled. "Yeah, well, that obviously wasn't right. But he didn't hold you back. He gave you what he could. I'm not saying you weren't right to leave – just look at you! Look at what you've done! But Josh didn't hold you back. He gave you what he could."

"He could have given me a better job."

"A job you didn't ask or apply for. He gave you what he could for your position, Donna."

She said, very quietly, "That wasn't the position I wanted anymore."

"Then you were right to leave. But don't hate Josh."

"I don't. Not any more. Not ever, really, but I think I needed to try to, a little, to leave. But I don't hate him. I'm just... upset. I'm upset he wouldn't hire me, even though he knew what I could do, even though you say he _knows_ I'm good at this!"

"Donna, he had a good reason not to hire you. Less than a week previously you had been slamming the Congressman at every opportunity." Donna began to object, but Leo held up his hand. "Let me finish. I know it was your job. You did damn good at it. But it might have taken time to spin, time the campaign needed to spend on other things, and it might have taken the campaign off message. It's a legitimate reason not to hire someone."

"I thought I was more than just _someone_," Donna said. "But Lou didn't think it was a problem. _Lou Thornton_ didn't care!"

"Lou also didn't hire you four days after the convention. That month makes a difference."

"Even if that were true, Leo – "

"Even if it _were_?"

"Even if that _is_ true. Josh still didn't want to hire me! When he found out Lou hired me, he made it clear he didn't want to. He subjected me to an _interview_, asking for references and experience! Josh knows full well about _all_ of that, considering most of it is _him_. He was just trying to humiliate me, going on about loyalty. I'm loyal! I was the most loyal person he ever could have found. I was _too_ loyal!" she exclaimed.

"You're right – he never would have found anyone else as loyal as you, Donna. I think that's why it hurt him so much when you left," Leo said softly.

"Is that why you say he thinks I hate him, Leo? Because I left? Is that why he hates me?"

"Dammit, Josh does not hate you! But he does think you hate him. And not just because you left – I think he understands why, really, although I know he's still hurt by how abrupt it was. But it's more what he says you've said since then. Something about 'grunt-level servitude' and being a cook."

Donna's pale complexion made the slightest blush instantly visible on her face.

"We were having an argument. I said that right after he was implying that I was disloyal, and when he said he was the one who gave me a career."

"He did."

"I know he did, Leo, but I was angry. He still doubted me and my ability. He wanted me to stay his assistant forever."

Leo shook his head. "When you said that, it sounded to Josh that what you meant was that working for him was pointless, and that you learned nothing from him. He's proud of what you've done, Donna – "

"He doesn't show it!" she interrupted.

"Well, it's obvious to me. Again, you two need to talk. He's proud of what you've done, but when you say things like that, he thinks you think he had no part in any of it, and that hurts him, Donna. And he told me you told him you thought Will Bailey taught you everything."

"It was a joke! It's what Josh and I do! Banter and take little jabs. It's just... it was just a joke."

"It hurt him, Donna. You had to know it would hurt him. It hurt Josh like nothing I'd ever seen anyone say to him. Ever since you left your job with him, he's taken what you've been telling him to mean you think he didn't matter. That you learned nothing from him. And I have to say, I understand why he would think that. It's hard to take it any other way, or to think that wasn't exactly how you intended it," Leo said.

"Maybe I did want it to hurt a little."

"A little?"

"A little. I was just teasing him, Leo," she said softly. "We always used to tease each other. He should know that."

"He doesn't. Josh is a sensitive man, underneath all that swagger and bluster and arrogance, Donna. And you took one thing he's always been proud of – how he showed you the ropes of politics, and took the time to teach you in a way that, quite frankly, none of the other senior staff ever did for their assistants – and made him think it wasn't anything to you. Honestly, Donna, how did you expect him to take it?"

Donna said nothing for a while. Leo continued.

"Now, Josh mentoring you like he did isn't all just due to him. You wanted to learn, you asked questions, you were eager to understand what you were doing and why. You were the ideal student. But that would have had no effect without him wanting to teach you. Doing so meant a lot to Josh."

"It meant a lot to me."

"He doesn't know that. You should tell him." Leo wiped his mouth with his napkin. "Or don't, if it doesn't matter to you. But I don't think that's the case, is it?"

"I does matter," Donna said.

"Then talk to him." He looked at his watch. "We should get back to the Community Hall."

As they walked back, Leo considered saying something else. It wasn't his place, really, to even say as much as he had, but he had one other seed he wanted to plant in Donna's mind, before he was done with this.

"Donna – your anger with Josh. This... friction between the two of you. It's not just about your career, is it?" he asked quietly.

Donna said nothing, but blushed slightly again.

"You should tell him that, too," Leo said.

Donna didn't say anything to that, either, but when Leo looked at her, she looked contemplative. He took that as a good sign. Maybe she would talk to Josh.

Leo certainly hoped so.


	3. Chapter 3

_[Author's note – this chapter ran away with me somewhat, as the whole story has. I expect it to now be six chapters in total. This one is a look inside Donna's reaction to Leo's conversation with her. Expect the next chapter to be a lot shorter, and more dialogue-based.]_

* * *

><p><em>September 13, 2006<em>

If she concentrated on work, she wouldn't have to think about it.

That had been her mantra for the last four days, since she spoke to Leo. For the last week, since she became the spokeswoman for the national campaign. For the last two months, since the convention, and since... since she wasn't hired as the deputy campaign manager. For the last nine months, since she joined the Russell for President campaign. For the last year, since Gaza.

Really, if she was honest with herself, it had been her mantra for the last eight and a half years. Work, and she didn't need to think about it. Work, and she didn't need to think about him. Work, and she didn't need to think about _them_. And there was always more work. Always more to put her mind to. Always more to concentrate on.

But the problem was, it didn't work. It never had.

Donna had always thought one of her strengths was her ability to multitask – to concentrate on the task she was doing while at the same time thinking about other things. It was a trait that had helped keep her sane in the White House, especially after the end of the MS hearings, when her job began to no longer really challenge her, and she could contemplate other things while she worked – things like treatment of suspected sorcerers in Indonesia, or crooked political bosses in _fin de si__è__cle_ Manhattan. Later on, her mind would turn to things like possible alternate careers for her, or trying to understand the reasons for some Democratic platform planks. More recently, while acting as campaign spokesperson or helping Lou prepare media strategy, she would consider the broader campaign strategy, what the message the Vinick campaign was going to try to put forward that day, and how the actions of the White House would help or (sadly, more likely) hinder the campaign.

And yet, with all of this work to do, all these other important matters to think about, there was always time each day when she found herself thinking about _him_. Josh Lyman. No matter how much she sometimes tried to not think of him.

Since her lunch with Leo the day before the debate, her relationship with Josh, or the lack of the same, had occupied far more of her thoughts than even the level she had become uncomfortably used to.

Everything she had believed since she left the White House – really, since her humiliating talk with CJ during the lockdown tore the veil from her eyes – was challenged over a Monte Cristo sandwich with the Democratic Party's Vice Presidential nominee. She had long believed that Josh Lyman was holding her career back, as he had certainly never made any moves to promote her. According to Leo McGarry, however, not only was Josh not actively sabotaging her, but he had tried to give her as much responsibility as he could possibly give an assistant. It hadn't been enough – she didn't want to remain an assistant forever, and Josh should have known that, as she'd certainly hinted it often enough – but it was definitely more than she had ever really thought he had done. She saw that now, after having thought about the matter for four days. She didn't _want_ to concede the point at first – her resentment for both Josh's actions and his lack of action on her professional career ran deep, especially since he refused to hire her after the convention, and even more so after he acted with such resentment to Lou hiring her last week – but if she was to be honest with herself, she had to. And Donna wanted to be honest with herself, on the subject of Josh more than anything else.

She knew she was right to leave her job as Josh's assistant. She had wanted more for years, and her rise through the Russell campaign, and into the Santos campaign, gave her more responsibility than she could ever have hoped for as an assistant. But Leo had been right: while she had told Josh repeatedly that she could do more, that she wanted more, she had never asked him for a promotion, nor had she applied for any other positions in the White House. A part of her still thought that didn't matter – Josh should have known she wanted to do something else. But another part of her realized that although maybe Josh _should_ have known even without her telling him, he obviously didn't, and she couldn't blame him for that.

Maybe it was time to stop resenting Josh for not advancing her career in the way she would have liked, and accept he did what he could, even if it wasn't enough for her. Maybe it was time to let that go, accept that things had worked out for the best professionally for her, and not resent Josh about that anymore.

There was more to her resentment towards Josh than that, of course. His refusal to hire her after then convention, when she came to him asking for a job, hurt her more than anything Josh had ever done. While she knew asking to be his deputy was aiming high (and only later did she find out that he already had a deputy in the person of Edith Ortega), she expected him to offer her something. The fact that he didn't – not even a job she considered beneath her abilities! – hurt her to the very core of her being. She never lost the impression during the primaries that Josh wanted to work with her again; he'd told her explicitly in New Hampshire that she should be with him. But when Josh refused to hire her, and gave as his reason quotes she had made about Santos during the campaign, she was sure it was an excuse. Maybe Leo was right that it would have been far more difficult to spin right after the convention that week ago, but she doubted it was the real reason Josh hadn't hired her. She was sure that if he had really wanted to hire her, he could have spun it to the media.

No, the only reasons she really believed Josh wouldn't hire her were either that he didn't think she was capable of any position other than assistant – after all, when he tried to convince her the Russell campaign was the wrong one, and that she should be with him, he never said in what capacity, and seemed surprised she had a position of actual responsibility – or, he simply didn't want to work with her at all. He no longer found her valuable.

She didn't know which option was worse.

Sure, he had said he missed her every day, but not enough to want her back, obviously. So she went back to Madison, got a job with the campaign there, and tried her best to put Josh out her mind. Their time working together had obviously ended.

There were other options open to her. She had had some offers to act as a spokesperson for various lobby organizations and public interest groups she found largely uninspiring. There was a potentially interesting offer as noon anchorwoman at WEAU-TV in Eau Claire. There were offers for some low-level positions for a few Congressman, and although they were positions she thought were far below her abilities, she realized her resume still consisted of: a few years of various near-minimum wage jobs as a waitress, a retail employee, and as a traffic controller for road construction; eight years of assistant work for Josh, and eight months as a top aide for a presidential campaign which blew a sizable lead to lose the nomination. She didn't want to be a lobbyist, and she wanted to work in politics, with or without Josh, so she went home, and worked for the Santos campaign coordinating press coverage in the Midwest.

When she was hired by Lou Thornton to make a national appearance, she was so happy. She was certain Josh had gotten over himself, realized how valuable she could be, and hired her. She was devastated when she found out Josh didn't want to hire her at all, but that devastation turned to anger as he made her endure that farcical interview. Once again her hopes had been dashed, and Donna had got to a point in her career where she was no longer going to pretend she wasn't angry – certainly not for Josh Lyman's sake. That anger only increased during the days of debate preparation in Falls Church, when Josh kept arguing with her – out of spite, she had been certain.

Of course, if she was honest with herself – and she was trying to be where Josh was concerned – it wasn't just the professional rejection from Josh that she was angry about.

Even before the lockdown, she feared her feelings for Josh – her attraction to him, her longing for a romantic relationship, for them to finally be together like the soulmates she had been certain they were – would never be truly reciprocated. When she woke up in the hospital in Germany, and Josh was there at her bedside, she had at the same time been so happy that he was there for her (for surely that must mean _something!_) while dreading that she was reading more into it than there was. She feared it was another one of those gestures Josh would make periodically that would convince her they were on the cusp of something wonderful, that would turn out to be nothing at all, like the night of the second inaugural where Josh had thrown snowballs at her window, told her she looked amazing, whisked her off to the ball... and nothing happened. That fear tainted her elation at his being there in Germany, and of course it turned out just as she had feared. Josh was attentive, caring, but the love she had thought she saw in his eyes was obviously just a delusion on her part, because he said nothing to her about any feelings he might have had. Eventually she couldn't handle it any more, and she told Josh to go back to Washington, before telling Colin Ayers – her one-night stand that followed her halfway across Europe – to go back to Gaza.

That disappointment only increased when she returned to the White House, and Josh was his same old self, and their relationship was exactly the same as it had been – a maddening mix of moments of tenderness and the banter she loved so much, combined with inattention and obliviousness. She simply couldn't take it any more. "Donna-and-Josh" was clearly never going to happen, and that made her upset at practically everything Josh did, even the things about him that she was normally so fond of. She hadn't been kidding that they began to irritate her like peppermint ice cream sticking in her teeth. What was the point of sticking around for him? Much as she admired the President, the reason she stayed – really, the reason she came back to the campaign in the first place, seven years previous – had always been Josh. She couldn't even lie to herself about that anymore after C.J. had pointed that out. And if it was never going to happen, why stay?

Josh canceling all those lunches just made it that much easier to leave, by showing that any hesitation she had in leaving because of what she hoped would happen with Josh was entirely misplaced. He didn't care for her. He didn't even care enough to call after she left. Obviously all those moments she thought meant something – Germany, snowballs, the frequent warm lingering gazes – meant nothing. Or they had meant something once, but he no longer felt even those glimmers. Or something.

Either way, there was no Donna-and-Josh. Combined that with him holding her back, and she was angry. She tried to not think about him, but once he quit the White House and ran Matt Santos for the nomination, there was no way to avoid him entirely on the campaign trail. She even gave a half-hearted effort at trying to hate him, but she found she simply couldn't. She couldn't delude herself into thinking that Josh, the man who had took a chance on her eight years ago, stood up for her during some of the worst mistakes she ever made, and came to her bedside in Germany, was all bad. Her righteous anger never went that far. She simply couldn't stop her feelings for him, no matter how much she tried to stop, no matter how much she tried to suppress it.

She had no idea how to deal with Josh on the campaign trail now that they weren't boss-and-assistant anymore. They didn't even seem to be friends anymore. Her thoughts toward Josh were this confusing mix of anger and longing, despair and confusion, admiration and opposition. So maybe her jokes were a little more pointed than they had been in the past? He was a big boy, and anyway they were no worse than some of the comments he had made about her (although she had to admit his comments hadn't been particularly barbed since before that Christmas that Stanley Keyworth came to the White House). But even through her anger she never gave up hope they could salvage something of their friendship – and maybe, now that they were no longer boss-and-assistant, become something more.

She hoped maybe they would have the opportunity to come to a new accommodation after the convention – ideally with Josh joining the Vice President's team. Will had made comments about not being able to hire Josh because of the negative turn the primary campaigns had taken, but Donna was certain that when presented with the opportunity to bring someone with Josh's experience on the team, Will and the Vice President would jump at the chance, and maybe then she and Josh would be able to get some of their rhythm back, once they were working together again. When Matt Santos won instead, she was sure she'd be able to work with Josh again, especially after his conciliatory gesture of having a beer with her and Will rather than take the stage with Santos and Leo after the amazing, improbable triumph that was largely Josh's work. What else could that mean?

Which made it all the more bitter when Josh wouldn't hire her. He used her professional growth as a reason to reject her, and then threw another one of his maddening comments at her. "_And if you think I don't miss you every day..._" If he missed her, why wouldn't he hire her? Why wouldn't he let her come back to work with him, to spend time with him in the only way they had ever really done? He obviously didn't care about her at all anymore, if her ever really did. Her hopes were dashed. When she went back home, it was with the certain knowledge that whatever they had, personally and professionally, was gone. She tried to hide her despair, but she didn't get over it in the month she was in Wisconsin.

The devastation she felt when she realized her hiring had nothing to do with Josh wanting her back in his life, that he actively opposed her return, burned away her despair and sadness, and left only her anger at Josh. She thought he felt nothing but anger at her – not a kind word, not a "welcome to the team", nothing! He was so unlike the Josh she had thought she knew. Ironically, they had seemed closer when they were on opposing primary campaigns than when they were on the same side in the general election. The only explanation she could think of what that he had begun to hate her.

She didn't know what to do with that. Josh had been disappointed in her before. He'd been upset with her before. He'd been cold to her before. But he'd never hated her, and she couldn't bear that possibility.

A part of her – a larger part than she liked to admit – wanted to simply pack up and leave. She'd done it before – she'd left Wisconsin, she'd left the Bartlet for America campaign, she'd left her boyfriend Paul again to return to the campaign. She'd left the White House less than a year ago. And although she had never told anyone this, she had nearly left the White House a few times before that. The first time was when her friend Casey offered her a position at his website in 2002. She'd nearly taken the job, because it paid three times what she made at the White House, because she was beginning to feel frustrated in her job even then, and because it seemed like whatever Josh and she had shared was ending and instead settling into a standard, sterile boss-and-assistant relationship, what with his relationship with Amy Gardner going strong, and there still being tension between Donna and Josh due to the lying-to-Congress-about-her-diary incident. She ultimately didn't leave because she didn't want to abandon Josh and the President in an election year, and she didn't want to be a journalist. She was glad she didn't leave then – the tension was dissipating already, Josh and Amy broke up not long afterwards, and Casey's website didn't last past the election – but she had been tempted.

After she took responsibility for Jack Reese's quote to the _Washington Post_ the next year, she had actually drafted a resignation letter, and had begun packing her things, when her eyes fell upon the dress she had planned to wear to the Inaugural Balls with Jack, and she put it on and cried. Donna didn't know if she would have gone through with it if Josh hadn't shown up to whisk her away to the balls, but after she got home, she tore up the letter and unpacked her things.

She had even considered leaving in the wake of Zoey's kidnapping, when the White House was demoralized, had lost initiative, the President was unable to properly fulfill his duties, and Leo had lost all patience with his Senior Staff. The return of Amy Gardner to Josh's bed only made leaving more tempting. Ironically it was the President and Leo backing down from Josh's efforts to get Lewis Berryhill nominated as Vice President in favor of Bob Russell that convinced her the Administration was losing its way. Were it not for her determination to see Josh through being sidelined by Leo after Chris Carrick's party switch, she might well have left then.

But she didn't want to leave the Santos campaign now. She wanted to be part of this, wanted to be part of electing another president. She was a good spokesperson, and she was excited about the possibilities of a Santos presidency far beyond what she ever imagined she could be before the convention. So she endured the coldness, endured the anger, endured what she feared was the hatred coming from Josh. It saddened her, it angered her, but it wasn't going to make her run away. She'd done too much of that in her life already.

She would stick it out. Josh could ignore her all he wanted, give her those damned looks, argue with her all he wanted, but she wasn't leaving. "I'm not going anywhere," she had told herself, and tried to ignore the echo in her mind of those same words, spoken to her tenderly over a hospital bed.

No matter how trying the next two months would be, she was there for Matt Santos. There for the campaign. There for the Democratic Party and the future of America.

And then Leo overturned her mental universe, and she had thought of little but their conversation and the campaign since.

A part of her always knew she did more than the other assistants. Josh had certainly made her work longer hours than the other assistants! CJ gave Carol regular and important tasks, but Donna knew that Carol thought there was little variety in her job. Ginger did far less than she did – Toby had her do research for him, but not the varied tasks Donna occasionally got from Josh. The responsibility she got from Josh had always made her proud, even if it wasn't everything she had wanted... right up until the lockdown, when CJ told her she had outgrown her job years before. She was right, of course. The routine tasks of an assistant, even a White House assistant, had stopped challenging her years before. It was only the many additional responsibilities Josh gave her that kept her from complete boredom. She had thought the reason he gave her extra responsibilities was simply efficiency – why send Ed or Larry to North Dakota when good ol' Donna could go instead of someone with an important job? Then after during the lockdown, CJ made it seem that Josh was sending her to Gaza simply to shut her up about the Brussels trip.

But Leo said Josh fought for her to get those assignments – fought for her to go to Gaza, to do exactly what she did in reporting about the 'real' Gaza that Colin Ayers had showed her. She had gone touring with Colin largely to show Josh that she could excel even in a "make-work" assignment, although thinking back she would have done the same thing even if CJ had never made her think the trip was a waste of time. Not just because Colin was dashing and interested, but because _she_ was interested in learning all she could.

It was both heartening and somewhat demoralizing that the actions she had thought of as an empowering "Take _That!_" at Josh were exactly what he wanted her to do in the first place.

Well, other than getting involved with Colin. If her mother's observations were correct, and Donna had long suspected they were not, Josh and Colin were staring daggers at one another when they were both in Germany, although Josh had tried to be on his best behavior in front of Donna. She had attributed it to Josh's usual disdain for her "gomers", even if she did hope it was jealousy. Her tryst with Colin was not a "Take _That_", though – she liked him, she was single, and he was certainly willing. Just because she hoped there might someday be something with Josh wasn't going to stop her for exploring her options, anymore than it ever did before. CJ's little "pep talk" about how Donna should engage in one-night stands had actually made her _more_ reluctant than she otherwise would have been to hook up with Colin, but Donna wasn't going to let the Press Secretary's low opinion of her color her actions or make her pass up a good thing. Right up until Leo's conversation, she had thought of Colin as the only real good thing to come out of that horrible trip. She had never blamed Josh for her getting blown up in Gaza, but the notion that it happened on a pointless trip was always a troubling one for her.

What really floored her is that Leo said Josh thought she was amazing.

He'd only used that word to describe her once before, and much as she treasured that moment in the snow, it hadn't been about her abilities. Donna knew Josh had always thought she was good at her job as his assistant, despite his teasing, which was part of what made his seeming refusal to advance her so frustrating. He had also made that comment on the campaign trail when they were discussing the possibility of a Russell-Santos ticket about how she had gotten so good at politics, which made her feel so proud and was probably the nicest moment they'd had together since she made him leave Germany... until she neatly skewered him by stating she learned it all from Will Bailey. She still didn't entirely know what possessed her to throw cold water on such a warm moment between them, other than some residual anger at Josh and to try and throw cold water on her own feelings, and stop what could have been another one of those oh-so-sweet-and-tender moments that ended up going nowhere from hurting her again.

To find out Josh thought she was amazing at her job was so gratifying and unexpected it would have made her heart leap for joy if it had not come on the heels of both his refusal to hire her after the convention and his graceless reaction to Lou Thornton bringing her on to the national campaign. As matters stood, it was just baffling. If Josh didn't doubt her abilities, why didn't he want her there? Her theory that Josh hated her was the only one that made sense...

Except that Leo had said that Josh thought she hated _him_, which she had thought was just completely ludicrous. Even when she had tried to hate him, in December and January, she couldn't. She couldn't turn off her feelings for him, even through all the frustration, the disappointment and the anger. Everyone else saw it – CJ had called her on it, and Colin had told her he saw it in Germany. (Of course, Colin also told her he thought Josh was in love with her, which made her discount his observations entirely. Really, the man was supposed to have a photographer's eye...) Surely Josh should be able tell it wasn't _hate_ she felt for him at all, couldn't he?

Leo had also told her Josh was hurt by her leaving, and by some of her barbs toward him on the campaign trail, and not just of a professional level. She expected Josh to be annoyed that she left him without notice (something she never stopped feeling guilty about), but not hurt. To be hurt he'd have to care, and she was so certain he didn't. And yes, maybe she had said some things to him on the trail and afterwards, but it was just banter, wasn't it? It was what they did – she teased him and deflated his ego, and heaven knew he did the same to her.

Now, after talking with Leo, she was reconsidering things. What she had meant as some pointed teasing and a reminder that Josh hadn't advanced her career –"I meant Will", and saying he gave her a career as a short-order cook – he apparently took to mean that she hadn't learned anything from him at all, which couldn't be further from the truth. One of the reasons she fell so hard, so quickly for Josh is that he took the time to take her seriously, to answer her questions, and to teach her, as best as he could under the time constraints he was always under, whatever he could about politics. It had been far more than she ever could have hoped for. Her frustration never centered on his not teaching her, or not being her mentor, but on her not having the opportunity until she left him to truly apply what he had taught her, and it was that frustration which lead to what she said. While she had to admit a part of her wanted to hurt him, especially in that stupid "interview" last week, she didn't think she actually _had_. She felt very bad in hindsight about saying Will was her teacher – what she had meant as the usual banter, albeit pointed, really struck Josh to the core, according to Leo.

She couldn't believe he would think she wouldn't appreciate all she had done... until she tried to look at it from Josh's perspective. She had left him, she didn't call him – he hadn't called her since she left, mind you, not even to make sure she had quit, but she hadn't called him once since the day she left – what conversations they had were awkward and stilted, she told him Will Bailey was her teacher, she basically denied he had been any sort of mentor... Really, what should he have thought?

A realization came to Donna as she stood there in the lunchroom in Eugene, Oregon, pouring herself a cup of coffee. Leo was right. Josh didn't hate her... he was _hurt_. Those damned looks Josh had been giving here weren't looks of anger. How could she not have seen it? She who knew Josh better than anyone, or once did, at least (and that thought gave her a sharp pain in her heart.) Those were looks of hurt... maybe even of despair. Just as she so often felt hurt by their situation, by Josh not acting as she hoped he would, _he_ was hurt. And she made him feel that way.

It left her feeling a curious mix of shame, power and wonder. If Josh was _hurt_, that meant he cared – to what extent, she didn't know, but certainly more than just a boss for his assistant. She actually affected him personally. She wasn't proud of _how_, but she was almost gratified that she did. For that meant... if he was hurt, and she was hurt and if neither of them hated one another, maybe they could get beyond the anger they both felt. Maybe she could forgive him... and maybe he could forgive her.

As Bram, Edie and Otto came into the room and poured themselves coffee, she sat and stirred cream into her cup, and thought.

If they could forgive one another, maybe they could begin to work like they used to – become once again that team Leo had spoken so fondly of. Maybe they could become friends again. Maybe, just maybe, the hope she once had for what they might be, the hope that she had never been entirely able to extinguish, wasn't entirely in vain. Even if that didn't happen, if she could get the camaraderie and friendship back that she had once treasured more than anything in her life, before he tore herself away from it, maybe things could be good again.

Don't dwell on _that_ hope, Donna told herself. Just get over the hurt. Get _him_ over the hurt.

But she couldn't help herself.

Maybe...


	4. Chapter 4

_September 13, 2006_

There wasn't enough money.

Partly this was a consequence of a divisive primary campaign that lasted into July, which drained the usual Democratic donors. Partly this was due to a dark horse candidate who most people expected to lose massively. Partly this was due to Arnold Vinick being such a strong opponent that the Santos/McGarry campaign found itself having to fight in usually reliably Democratic states like Hawaii, Maryland, Washington and Wisconsin, states that had been reliably Democratic in every election since Republican Owen Lassiter's landslide victory over D. Wire Newman back in 1990.

What it meant for Josh Lyman, however, was sleepless nights trying to figure out where to allocate advertising dollars, where to send Matt Santos and Leo McGarry. He'd had to make some tough choices, going dark in Illinois in favor of trying to salvage slight leads in Washington and Wisconsin. That was a tough call – Illinois was always a battleground – but this time around it looked like downstate Republicans and suburban swing voters were overwhelming reliably Democratic Chicago. Washington was still leaning towards Santos, though, as was Wisconsin. Twenty-one electoral votes in the Prairie State versus twenty-one electoral votes in the other two states.

Maybe there would be some bleeding of the effect of Democratic ad buys in Wisconsin over the border. Or maybe from Iowa. Or maybe they'd get a boost from Santos' solid performance in last Sunday's debate, Or maybe the voters of Illinois would spontaneously get it into their heads that no matter how decent and honorable Arnold Vinick might be personally, he had the entire mass of the Republican party apparatus behind him, just waiting to undo all the good Jed Bartlet had done in the last eight years.

Josh laughed quietly. While he was asking for the impossible, why not ask for a flying car? Or a magic wand to make legislators vote the way Josh wanted? Or for everyone he'd lost to come back to him?

In addition to the obvious person who fit that bill, who he kept trying and failing to not think about, and in addition to his sister and father, Josh thought of the other people who had left his life in varying degrees. His best friend Sam, who he had last really spoken to in December, after he left the White House. And _her_, of course. Toby, who had been so furious at Josh, with whom he had fought, and whose betrayal of the President seemed inexplicable. And _her_. CJ, whom he had been so close with, but from whom he had drifted so far since he got back from Germany, since her promotion over him, since her seemingly endless kneecapping of the Santos campaign. And _her_. Even Mandy and Amy, two women whose relationships with Josh had crashed and burned, but who were both people he looked back on with some fondness, now that he didn't have to date them anymore, and who he never really meant to lose touch with the way he had.

And _her_, of course. Always _her_.

For a long time, now – years, really – Josh had had the feeling of watching his life disintegrate in slow motion, of watching his relationships with people, with institutions, hell, with everything, wither and decay and fall apart. It began as a subtle thing, with Sam leaving to run for Congress, and he noticed it more and more as time went on. Then after Zoey's kidnapping, his relationship with Leo began to deteriorate, and was never the same after Chris Carrick's party switch and Leo's subsequent freezing Josh out of the inner workings of the senior staff. That freezing out ended after Josh's strategy helped the President solve the budget crisis, but it took a long time for the two men's relationship to repair itself, and when Josh was honest with himself he recognized that it had never repaired completely, even if it was now so much better than it had been at any point in the last few years that Leo was giving him personal advice about Donna. The erosion of his position in the White House after Carrick, and after being passed over for CJ and then having the China trip snatched away from him, was something Josh had felt acutely, even now that he was long gone. He knew there were whispers about how he was running the campaign, and if he was really up to the task, what with how his White House career flamed out, and whether Santos should replace him with someone else... Everything was on the verge of collapse, so he just had to keep going. To muddle through. Everything could change in an instant. Nothing was sure. Nothing was stable.

He first felt that watching the television show that SUV explode in Gaza, and had it hammered home when Donna left. If Donna could leave, nothing would ever be certain again.

When he was reading about physics that summer after he was shot, trying to keep himself sane when he was laid up in bed and Donna was fussing over him, he read a series of papers about entropy. How it was inevitable that things would decay, and how it couldn't be stopped. The best you could do was manage it.

So he kept doing what he could, living day-to-day while trying to plan the campaign for the remaining two months and to do what he could to position the Congressman to be ready to be President. If he couldn't stop the entropy in his personal life, he could at least keep going on with the campaign.

In his more hopeful moments, he thought of how he could try to repair his broken relationships and bring back the people he had lost. He could call Toby, let him know that despite everything, despite whatever possessed him to leak the existence of the military shuttle to the media, despite their stupid fight back during the primaries, that he still had a friend. He could turn the other cheek with CJ, accept what little help she could offer, and be ready to reach out to her when he could. He had a plan for Sam, to try and lure him back to D.C. after the election, to work with him like they had in the good old days.

And with Donna...

He was trying. Since his talk with Leo after she joined the campaign, he had taken a long look at himself. He still knew that he had been right, damn it, that he couldn't have brought her on when she came to him for a job after the convention. He realized, though, that he didn't have to act the way he did when Lou hired her. He could have welcomed her onto the team, said it was good that they'd be working together again – hell, done anything other than try and interview her the way he did. Despite that, though, she was here now, and even if she hated him, he could still try to reach out to her. Even if they were never to be together in the way that he still, even now, hoped they might someday be, their relationship didn't have to be based on this cold fury. They might never work together as effortlessly as they once had, but Josh could still try and salvage something from their years together.

He just hoped she would let him.

Other than healing his relationships, and more money for ad buys, what Josh knew he really needed was sleep. Lots of it. But as that wasn't likely to happen, he needed caffeine. Finding himself all out of energy drinks, he decided to go to the makeshift lunch room to get himself some coffee. And maybe get a staffer to go buy a case of Red Bull.

As he approached the lunch room, he heard an animated discussion coming from within. That was one of the things he missed the most from the Bartlet campaigns – the sense of fun, the lively debate, the fact that they all felt like a family. The Santos campaign did not. They were a good team, and Josh had surrounded himself with good people, but it wasn't the same. Part of that was simply his position – as Campaign Manager, he wasn't part of the team so much as he was in charge of the team, and that made a difference. Leo was never quite part of the "gang" of C.J., Toby, Sam and Josh, because he was the one they looked to for direction. Josh was that now, and while he loved it, he loved being one of the gang.

Part of it was that the rest of the campaign staff simply hadn't coalesced yet. Much as the Bartlet for America campaign thought of itself as a scrappy insurgency, it started off in a much better position than the Santos campaign. Jed Bartlet was a two-term governor, and a favorite-son candidate in the New Hampshire primary who had a former Secretary of Labor running his campaign, and there were funds to assemble a talented team of notables. Santos was a three-term congressman with little name recognition, his campaign run by a former Deputy Chief of Staff who, while certainly having name recognition and (Josh grinned while thinking this) no inconsiderable skill of his own, was widely seen as on the downward slope of his career after being passed over for Chief of Staff. All the Santos campaign could afford for staff at the beginning were Josh, who worked for basically nothing, and Ronna and Ned, who coming from the Congressman's office, were being paid anyway. It took time to assemble the team to the state it was now, and they didn't have the luxury of going into the general election with a fully-formed team from the primaries the way the Bartlet campaign did.

Josh was confident, though, that they team would gel. Hopefully the lively discussion he was hearing was evidence of that.

Of course, Josh immediately recognized Donna's voice among the others, using that tone she used to use so often with him when she was trying to get her point across. As he entered the room, he saw her sitting at the table, talking to Bram and Edie, while Otto was paying attention to her while pouring himself a cup of coffee.

"... like Mississippi or Alabama," Donna was saying.

"But they never vote Democratic," said Otto.

"They voted for us for a century," Josh corrected him as he shooed him out of the way.

"And Alabama voted Democratic in '86," Donna added.

"Seriously?" Otto asked.

Josh shook his head. Kids these days. He was about to say something biting when Donna spoke first. "For President Newman?" she said with a far more patient tone than Josh would have used.

At Otto's look of confusion, Josh shook his head and said, "For God's sake, if you want to get anywhere in this business, you need to know this stuff. It was only twenty years ago. Go look up Newman's strategy in '86 in and '90 – figure out why the first worked and the second didn't before you talk to me again. And give me that," he said, gesturing for the cup, which Otto reluctantly handed over. As Otto left, Josh shouted at his retreating form, "And have someone get me a case of Red Bull!"

"Do we really want to waste time and money in Alabama and Mississippi, though?" Bram asked. "It's not '86 anymore, and Ray Sullivan's a rock star down there."

"Country star," Donna said quietly. Josh couldn't help but laugh, which got him a little smile from her.

"Anyway, even if they weren't already going to vote for Vinick, with Sullivan on the ticket, they'll never vote for the Congressman," Bram said.

"Of course they won't," Donna said.

"Then why waste..."

"It's not a waste," Donna said.

"But they're not going to vote for him."

"No, but Pennsylvania, Missouri, and Wisconsin might."

Bram looked confused. "I don't get it."

"It's a national election. Matt Santos is an unknown quantity to a lot of people. All they know is he's handsome, he's Latino, and he's a liberal Democrat."

"Not exactly vote getters in Mississippi," Josh pointed out quietly, thinking he saw where Donna was going, and wanting to see if she went there. "Not many Democrats there, not anymore."

"No, but there are lots of Americans there. And that's who he wants to be President of," Donna responded, looking him straight in the eye. Josh couldn't help but smile.

"So?" Bram asked.

"Whether we like it or not..." Donna started, not breaking eye contact with Josh.

"...and we don't..." Josh interjected, also not looking away from Donna.

"...race is a factor. There's lots of people who don't trust the Congressman, or think we're only aiming for the Latino vote."

"So by paying attention to states he likely won't win..."

"...he shows he's still aiming to be president of _all_ Americans," Donna said.

"And even if it doesn't win Mississippi..."

"...it should win us votes in more marginal states."

"Show him to be Presidential."

"Get us votes all across the board by the skeptical-but-open-minded voter."

"Change the conversation."

"Tip a few states our way, maybe."

"But we don't have much money," Josh pointed out. "So what do you think we should do?"

"The Congressman has an overnight in Houston on Sunday, and a speech in Jacksonville on Monday evening. He can land in Gulfport and Mobile, make a couple of speeches, get some national coverage," Donna suggested.

"We didn't go to Mississippi the last two times. Jed Bartlet relied on bleed-over from the Louisiana and Alabama markets." Josh paused. "'Matt Santos reaches out to the Gulf'. No Democratic candidate has really been in Mississippi in the general since President Newman in 1990."

"Didn't do him any good," Donna pointed out.

"Arguing against your argument?" Josh said with a grin.

"Just looking at it from all angles."

"You're good at that," Josh said softly, which made Donna smile again. "Newman lost because of the recession and the S&L thing. Jed Bartlet wasn't going to win in Mississippi anyway. But Matt Santos is a Southerner. That will play well there."

"And pay off elsewhere in some marginal states."

"He's reaching out to everyone," Josh said.

"Because he's going to be President of everyone," Donna said.

"I like it. Take it to Lou – she'll make sure we get coverage – but tell her I think we should do it. If she can make the media strategy work, I'll take it to the Congressman. He was looking for a lighter day, but – "

"...no rest for the wicked," Donna said.

"Exactly. Suggest Montgomery or Birmingham instead, of Mobile, though."

"They're bigger, but Nancy McGowan's got a shot in the Alabama First, so we'll want to give her some support," Donna pointed out.

"Okay, keep Mobile, but see if we can get Montgomery in there as well. On the cheap, of course."

"Of course," Donna said with a wide grin, and finished up her coffee. Josh found himself grinning right back.

Edie looked at her. "I've been here for six weeks, and I've never seen anyone get anywhere with Il Duce here that quickly."

"Hey!" Josh said.

"I speak his language," Donna said, looking away from Josh, which he took as his cue to leave.

"You're good at this. Strategy, I mean. I knew you were good on TV," Bram said to Donna as Josh was leaving the room.

"I had a good teacher," Josh heard her say from out in the hallway. He was about to quicken his pace as he heard her say, "You don't work with Josh Lyman for eight years without learning a few things."

Well. _That_ was not what Josh expected to hear.

* * *

><p>An hour later, Josh was wrapping up a phone call to the Mississippi Democratic Party Chair, when Donna appeared in his doorway.<p>

"Lou's on board with the Gulfport-Mobile-Montgomery thing. She's going to arrange coverage, but thinks you should pitch it to the Congressman."

"I just spoke with Kirk North. He said he'd get all four of the congressional candidates to Gulfport, so that should get us some more airtime, and that the state party will pay for the rally, thank God. He thinks Sanford Hicks has a real shot," Josh said.

"Mississippi Fourth?" Donna asked. Josh nodded. "He thinks we can pick it up?"

"He really does. Larry Inboden from the Second wants some face time with the congressman, too. They co-sponsored that bill on..."

"...getting incentives for new teachers in the inner cities. I remember. We were up all night just before the vote on that one," Donna said, a small wistful smile appearing on her face.

Josh smiled. "Too bad we lost."

"Part of the platform now, though. We'll get it through."

"Yeah." The silence that descended wasn't uncomfortable, really, for the first time in longer than Josh was prepared to remember.

"Thanks for backing me up in there, Josh. I know things have been – "

"A good idea's a good idea," Josh cut her off. He didn't know why she would bring up the distance between them, not right then.

"I know. But I appreciate the support."

"You did tell Lou it was your idea, right?"

"Thought she'd shoot it down if she thought it was yours?" Donna asked.

"Nah. Lou's not like that. Besides, she secretly thinks I'm a genius."

"It's a very well-kept secret," Donna teased.

"Hey, she signed on to the campaign, right? Anyway, I wanted to make sure you got proper credit. I'll be letting the Congressman know when I recommend it to him."

"Okay." Donna paused again. Very softly, she said, "This is nice, Josh. I miss this."

Josh fought down the urge to point out she wouldn't have had to miss it if she hadn't left. Instead, he said, "Me too." He cringed at how lame he sounded. "If you get any other good ideas, just let me know."

"I know the number," she said. "You could call, too, if you wanted. To bounce ideas around. I know that helps. You probably have other people you do that with, but..."

Josh realized this was probably as awkward for her as it was for him. That oddly made him feel better. "I will."

"Good. I'd like that. For the campaign, of course," she said, but her words were belied by her broad grin. God, but he missed those grins.

"For the campaign," he agreed, but he was smiling, too.

"Or maybe not just for the campaign," she said in a shy, intimate tone that he hadn't heard her use in so long. "But I have to go. KMTR-TV has a thing, and they want..."

"Yeah. I'm going to talk to the Congressman, then give Alabama a call," Josh said, but he made no move toward the telephone.

"Okay, I should..."

"Okay," Josh said. Donna gave him a shy smile and a little wave, and left.

Josh couldn't stop smiling. He had no idea why things went better than they had been recently. Maybe Donna picked on his new attitude. Maybe Leo had been right all along, and Donna didn't really hate him, despite all the jabs she had taken at him for months. Whatever it was, things were looking up. He found himself humming, quite unintentionally – "China Grove" by the Doobie Brothers – as he picked up the phone and called Matt Santos to pitch him Donna's idea.

Maybe they could salvage their friendship after all. He didn't dare hope for more.


	5. Chapter 5

_[Author's note: Looks like this is going to be probably eight chapters now. These things tend to balloon.]_

* * *

><p><em>September 17, 2006<em>

Matt and Helen Santos had taken a night for themselves after the campaign flew into Houston from their church appearance that morning. Donna therefore found herself with a free Sunday evening before their early flight to Gulfport, Mississippi - a trip they were taking thanks to her suggestion, and Josh pitching her idea to the Congressman. She had joined Bram, Edie and Lester in the hotel bar for drinks earlier, but Edie called it an early night, and Lester had left the table shortly thereafter. Sitting alone with Bram, watching him flirt with a cocktail waitress who was barely of legal drinking age got awkward quickly, so Donna retired to her room. It was fortunately equipped with a deep bathtub, so Donna treated herself to a long, relaxing soak. Which was, of course, almost immediately interrupted by the ring of her cell.

Long experience had taught her never to leave her phone far out of reach, so she grabbed the phone and saw that it was Josh calling. She couldn't help but smile. Their talk in Eugene, Oregon a few days previous, which Donna had feared was only a temporary thaw in their relationship, looked instead like it was the beginning of a new phase for them. Donna's plan was to call Josh in about a week if he didn't call her first, but to her surprise he called two days later, asking what she thought of adding an event in St. Louis, to try and build momentum in Missouri, where Matt Santos was only three points down on Vinick, and asking for any suggestions she had to tailor the message to specifically influence those parts Southern Illinois within the St. Louis media market. He then made some suggestions for the trip to Denver and Los Angeles, and they spoke about what the Congressman could do to appeal to Bob Russell's home base. Donna was worried he would try to get in some digs about her having worked for the Vice President, but he hadn't. Not even a hint of it.

Donna knew she was probably going to be worried about Josh taunting her about working for Russell, laughing about how he beat her, and accusing her of betraying him for Russell for some time. He had started on that path when Lou hired her, after all. She also knew she wouldn't be worried about it if she didn't still feel guilty for the way she left the White House, although she didn't feel guilty for leaving in and of itself.

But he hadn't done any of that. They hadn't spoken about anything personal, just politics, but he asked her opinion, considered what she said, and answered her questions. It was nice, just like she told him in Eugene. She was looking forward to more.

And now Josh was calling again, just two days later. A smile on her face, she answered the phone with a breezy, "Hi Josh."

"When you worked for Russell, what did you think of Matt Santos?" Josh asked, not bothering to say 'hello'.

"What?" Donna asked, her good mood immediately dissipating.

"Did you think he was presidential material?" Josh pressed her. "Did you think he could do the job?"

"I can't believe you!" she said, getting angry despite herself. It was one thing to expect him to do this, another for him to actually do so. "We're actually getting along, and it's been so nice, and it seems like you're taking me seriously for once, and then you pull this again. What is the matter with you that - "

"Whoa, whoa, what are you talking about?" Josh asked, his surprised tone stopping Donna short.

She wasn't going to be stopped, though. "I'm talking about you rubbing my nose in my having worked for Russell. My giving those quotes about Santos to the media."

"I'm not doing that at all!" Josh said, his voice raising defensively. "I just want to know whether you thought he was presidential."

"Yeah, so you can mock me for not having – "

"That's not – "

" – gone with Santos in the first place. He – "

"Donna..."

" – wasn't in the running – "

"Donna..."

" – at all when I went to Russell, Josh, so how you can blame me for – "

"DONNA!" Josh shouted, interrupting her.

Josh shouting startled her – she wasn't as used to it as she had been a year ago, and wasn't that really the crux of the matter? – and she nearly dropped her cell phone. In her attempt to grab the phone before it fell in the tub, she sloshed a bunch of water over the side of the tub, and caused waves to oscillate back and forth in the tub, splashing more water and bubbles over the side. She prayed Josh wouldn't notice.

No such luck, though. "Are you... are you in the bath?" Josh asked, hesitantly.

"Yes, Josh, I'm taking the rare opportunity of some free time to rest my weary bones. It's been a long few days."

"A good few days, though. The Congressman did great today. Leo said he really connected with the parishioners."

"He did. Reverend Whitman seemed skeptical at first, but Matt Santos won him over along with the rest of the crowd," Donna said.

"Yeah, he'll do that to you," Josh said. Donna could hear the admiration in Josh's voice, something she'd only ever heard from him when he spoke about President Bartlet in the early days, before the MS, before Shareef. "This whole thing with Ronnie Burke and Officer Martinez is just terrible. I really hope the Congressman's message of compassion and turning away from blame resonates with people."

"Have you heard it?" Donna asked.

"Yeah, someone sent me a recording of it. It's the kind of thing I'd like to hear him say more often, actually. I think it could make a difference in this country. I'd want to play his speech verbatim if it wouldn't be, you know, so damn tacky to play it on the backs of that poor kid's family," Josh said. "But it's a message people need to hear."

It struck Donna how much she had put this side of Josh out of her mind in the past year. This was the Josh so many people didn't see, didn't even believe existed – the man who had devoted his life to public service not just for the love of the political game, much as he enjoyed it, but because he really just wanted to make the world a better place and to help people.

It was strange, Donna thought, how much she could consciously not think about what was such an important part of Josh's make-up. She supposed if she had, she would have missed him more acutely, and would have had an even harder time staying away from him.

Not that she had really managed to stay away from him after all.

"Anyway, I didn't mean to interrupt your bath," Josh said. "I'll talk with you in a few days..."

"You don't need to hang up, Josh," she said, her previous irritation ebbing away. "I'm just soaking here," she said, almost automatically putting a flirtatious tone into her voice that she really hadn't used with him since Gaza. The silence on the other end of the line was gratifying – she could picture the look he probably had on his face thinking about that. "Josh, why did you call?"

"Like I said, I want to know what you thought of Matt Santos back when you were on the Russell campaign. I want the perspective of someone who wasn't with the campaign from the beginning."

"Why?"

Josh sighed. "An old acquaintance who has some experience at messaging doesn't think Matt Santos is 'presidential material' because he was ready to leave Washington when I convinced him to run for president just before Christmas."

Donna felt a stab in her heart. That was just after she left the White House. Just after she left Josh.

Josh continued. "I think it's total bullshit, of course... but I worry I'm too close to the subject. I wanted an outside perspective."

A wave of guilt passed through Donna's heart. Josh wasn't calling to mock her after all – not that that would be entirely out of character – but because he wanted her honest opinion. Her honest _outside_ opinion, mind you – outside the Santos inner circle (which as far as Donna could tell, basically consisted of just the Santoses themselves, Josh and Ronna), outside Josh's confidence of the last half year – but her honest opinion nevertheless.

She knew she had to stop being so defensive towards Josh, if she wanted him to be open to her.

"Honestly, Josh? I didn't think he was presidential material in the beginning. Not for this year – I thought he might have been ready in 2014, maybe, but not in 2006."

"In 2014? After President Russell's two terms?" Josh asked.

_Now_ he was teasing her, but Donna knew it was a gentle teasing.

"Yes. That," she said.

"Your opinion changed, though, right?" Josh asked.

The hint of uncertainty tore at her heart. He still didn't trust her entirely.

"Of course it changed, Josh. I wouldn't be working for Matt Santos if I didn't think he was presidential material," she said.

"Did you think Bob Russell was presidential material?"

"I did. I _did_, Josh. He was a five term congressman, and had been Vice President for three years. That's twelve years of Washington experience, Josh, which is more than a lot of Presidents have had. It's more than President Bartlet had."

Josh scoffed. "Are you saying Bingo Bob was better presidential material than Jed Bartlet?"

The scorn in his voice tore at her heart. "No, of course not, but that didn't mean he couldn't do the job."

"Would you have uprooted your whole life to work for..." Josh began, and trailed off. "Never mind that, Donna. I'm sorry – I didn't want to get into this tonight."

"We're going to have to at some point, Josh."

Josh sighed again. "I know, Donna, I know. Just... not tonight, okay?"

"Okay." Donna hoped it wouldn't be like last year, when Josh dodged all those lunches with her. The fact that he knew they had to talk gave her hope though – not just hope that Josh would want to talk about her leaving, but hope that she herself could talk about it honestly and completely with him, and not just avoid the topic forever, like they were avoiding it now, hopefully until they were both ready. Hope that they could address it, and get past it, rather than having it festering under the surface, undermining them and making her expect the worst from him.

"When did you begin to think the Congressman could be president?" Josh asked.

"During the stem cell vote," she said. "I helped him organize our side of the vote – wrangling all those congressmen and hiding them in the Vice President's office."

"Yeah, he mentioned that. He was very impressed with 'Russell's Chicken Fighter'," Josh said. "I could have told him how impressive you were," he added off-handedly.

A swell of pride filled Donna's heart. Praise from Matt Santos was very satisfying, but not as much as praise from Josh. Even after all these years, after the estrangement between the two of them, it more to her than from anyone else. Not that she was about to tell Josh that, even though a part of her thought she really should. So she continued. "I knew he was an effective congressman, but that night I saw him act as a leader. I knew then that he could be a good president."

"I knew it. I _knew_ it! It's not just me – it's not just the team. Even his opponents can see he'd be a good president. Hell, even Arnie _Vinick_ likes Santos – that's what it seemed like in Iowa, at least," Josh said.

"Who was the acquaintance, Josh?"

"Guess," he said, full of bitterness.

Donna thought of the first name she could think of that Josh had ever said with that tone. "Mandy Hampton?"

"_Mandy?_" Josh said, incredulously. "You think I'm talking to Mandy?"

"Well _I_ don't know. I'm not in charge of your schedule any more," she said, immediately regretting it.

"Well, I'm not. I haven't heard from Mandy since after the whole Chris Carrick thing."

"Mandy called you then?"

"Yeah. She said she never expected anything less from the 'Bartlet gang' than how they treated me then. Said it was no different from how they treated her when that memo came out. I had a hard time arguing differently," Josh said. "Anyway, I haven't talked to Mandy in three years. Last I heard, she was advising some wannabe governor in Alaska."

"If not Mandy, who? Not Amy – I know she was working with you when she was advising Russell and Hoynes."

"No, not Amy. Toby."

"_Josh_," she said, surprised. "You shouldn't be..."

"No one else is, Donna. _No one_. Not even Sam has called him. Toby may be a self-righteous son of a bitch – "

"You know he's not, Josh."

"He is. He always has been. It's what made him so good. And so maddening." Donna could hear the wistfulness in his voice. "But whatever he did, he needs to know he has friends. No matter what he did. Whether he did what he said he did or not, whether he leaked against my campaign in favor of Ricky Rafferty or not, he still has friends."

"If the press found out you were calling him..."

"I didn't exactly call him," Josh said sheepishly.

"_Josh!_ You didn't go _see_ him, did you?"

"Donna, he's on his own. He has no one. _Believe_ me, I know what that's like."

She left the unspoken implication unacknowledged. "You _can't_ see him again. Call him, sure – he's your friend – but you can't see him."

"Is this the campaign spokewoman talking?"

"It's her, and it's your friend who doesn't want to see you come to grief."

"Are we still friends, Donna?"

The plaintive tone in his voice tore at her heart. "Of course we're still friends. We'll always be friends, Josh, whatever else. Even when we're mad at each other. Even if we don't talk for months... or years," she said, not entirely believing it, but hopeful just the same.

"It didn't seem like it," Josh said quietly.

"No, it didn't," she admitted. "But if you were in trouble, whether we were talking or not, I still wouldn't have stopped for red lights."

"I wouldn't have either. I didn't, you know," he added. "Back when..."

"I know, Josh."

"Good." He paused. "It won't ever be years that _we_ don't talk, will it?"

The sadness mixed with hopefulness in his voice nearly broke her. "I won't let it be, Josh."

"Neither will I," he said.

"Good. Anyway, Toby's wrong. Santos will be a good president. He has what it takes. I bet Toby just feels left out."

"That's what _I_ said!"

"You're doing a good thing, Josh – talking to him, I mean. But please, don't visit him until after the campaign. And if you call him, be discreet."

"Like I'm ever not."

"Yeah, you're a master of subtlety, Double-Oh-Seven. You probably use code names," she said teasing him.

"That's not a bad idea," he said seriously. "Thanks, Donna. I didn't mean... I didn't want you to think I was calling to make you feel bad."

"I hoped you wouldn't," she said sincerely.

"This is nice, like you said. Us talking like this. I wouldn't want to... I don't want to go back to how we were last week. Or before that."

"I don't either. When we do talk – about everything, I mean – I hope it can still be nice," she added hopefully.

"I've lived without talking to you, Donna. I don't want to do it again."

That did it for Donna. She sniffled a little.

"Are you okay?" Josh asked.

"Yes, Josh. I'm fine. I don't want to live without talking to you either."

"Okay. Okay. I'll let you get back to your bath."

"I'll probably get out soon. The bubbles have all disappeared, anyway."

"You're _killing_ me, here," he said in a strangled voice.

"Sorry," she said, not meaning it at all, and bringing her free hand to her lip and biting her thumb. "Good night, Josh."

"Good night, Donna."

She hung up the phone, and reached over and placed it on the sink, splashing more water on the floor in the process. It didn't matter – she was smiling.

They still had a way to go before they were back to near where they were, but maybe it wouldn't be as long a road as she had thought. She had lived without his friendship, without him in her life, and her life seemed barren for its loss, even as her professional life grew by leaps and bounds. She didn't want to live without it again.

And neither, it seemed, did Josh.

And maybe that hope she hadn't dare feel anymore for something _more_ with Josh, well, maybe it was a possibility again. Even if it ended up as just friendship and flirtation again – much as she might want more – well, she could deal with that this time.

Although maybe she wouldn't have to.

Nothing could stop her grin now.


	6. Chapter 6a

_[Author's note: Now the plan is up to ten chapters, some of which (this and the next, at least) will be multi-part chapters. I really hope that's it, though!]_

* * *

><p><em>September 18, 2006<em>

It was just after three in the afternoon when Donna got into the bus taking Matt Santos and the traveling staff back to Montgomery Regional Airport.

As she passed the row where the congressman and his wife were seated, he asked her, "How far behind schedule are we, Donna?"

"Only twenty minutes, Congressman. Pretty good, as far as these things go," she said with a smile.

"I could be relaxing in Jacksonville, if it weren't for this side trip," he said, his smile cutting the seriousness of his tone. "I understand I have you to thank for this."

"Matt... ignore him, Donna," Helen Santos said. "I thought all the stops went really well."

"I did too," Donna said. "I think we're going to get some good coverage out of this – especially the Gulfport stop – which will hopefully get us some more national attention."

"Do you think any of the congressional candidates has a shot?" Matt Santos asked. "Other than Jeff Fields?" The congressman from Alabama's Seventh district had been the sole Democrat in the state's contingent in the House since Owen Lassiter's landslide gave the House a Republican majority in 1990.

"Nancy McGowan down in the First has a good shot."

"Are you sure it's not just optimism? When was the last time the First elected a Democrat?"

"1960. But McGowan is an effective state Attorney General and is polling well in Mobile and Washington Counties. I think she has a real shot," she said.

"That must explain why she looked so happy at the rally in Mobile. Do you think we gave her a boost, or she gave us a boost?" Matt Santos asked.

"Hopefully it's a bit of both," Donna said.

She was interrupted from saying more by the Congressman's phone ringing. As he answered it, she sat down behind Mrs. Santos and pulled out her Blackberry. She had emailed her contacts at _The Florida Times-Union_ and WLTV to arrange interviews with the Congressman before the rally at the UNF Arena, and was responding to a question from WFOY's news director when the Congressman turned around, a grin on his face.

"What are you doing on Saturday?"

"I'm coming with on the trip to Philadelphia," she answered. "We should have you practice eating a cheesesteak for the photo op."

"I've eaten a sandwich before," Santos answered. "I've even had the occasional cheesesteak."

"With Cheez Whiz?"

"Provolone, I think."

"You should order it with Cheez Whiz. It will make you seem more accessible."

Mrs. Santos turned around. "The common voter orders Cheez Whiz?"

"The common Philadelphian probably doesn't care," Donna answered. "But the average voter in the rest of America can probably picture Cheez Whiz better easier than provolone. And it can be very messy. President Bartlet got some all over his tie in the '98 primaries."

"He won Pennsylvania, didn't he?" the Congressman asked.

"He did, and the Cheez Whiz on his tie probably help him seem less 'ivory tower'. You don't have to worry about that, so you want to just look like you know what you're doing."

"I feel vaguely insulted," he said, smiling.

"You shouldn't – your image is more down to earth. But the last thing we need is seeing pictures of you on the Daily Show covered in Cheez Whiz," Donna said seriously.

"What, you don't think it will be part of an attack ad, do you? 'Matt Santos – bad for his shirt, bad for America'?" he joked.

"No, but we don't need people to think you're not serious. And having to address a crowd covered in Cheez Whiz probably won't help. We'll get someone to make you a few cheesesteaks to practice."

Santos laughed again. "As much fun as I'm having hearing you say 'Cheez Whiz' over and over... That was Lou on the phone. You're going to be coming with me to the White House after Philly. You've been invited to Ellie Bartlet's wedding."

Donna's eyes widened. "_I'm_ coming with you?"

"Yes. Well, Helen is, really. But they want you to come along too, it looks like."

"Why? I barely even know Ellie."

"I don't know – Lou didn't say. The White House is apparently inviting half of the Democratic Party and a fair portion of the diplomatic corps, and they want me and Helen, you, Leo and Josh to come, too. Basically the Bartlet contingent of the campaign."

Donna was about to respond when her Blackberry buzzed. WJXX-TV wanted an interview as well, but there reporter couldn't make it to the Arena until after the rally. As she responded to him, thoughts of Ellie's wedding receded from the front of her thoughts, but did not escape them entirely.

* * *

><p>Donna got to her room at the Hyatt Regency in Jacksonville at half-past eleven. She had just kicked her shoes off when her cell phone rang. Seeing that it was Josh again, for the second night in a row, a smile appeared on her face as she answered the call.<p>

"You're up late," she said, not bothering with a greeting.

"What? It's just after ten," Josh said.

"You're not back in Washington?"

"No, Lou has me appearing at fundraisers in the Midwest for the next few nights. What's there to do in Milwaukee on a Monday night?"

"Drink beer and watch the Brewers, if they're playing."

"They beat the Cardinals, but instead of watching them, I had to go wheedle money out of cheese magnates and beer barons," Josh said. She could practically hear the smirk.

"Ha ha, Josh. How did it go? Did you wow them?"

"Of course. I've always had a way with Wisconsinites."

"Well, my mother likes you," Donna said.

"I thought she hated me for keeping you in D.C."

"It wasn't you who kept me in Washington, Josh. It was the White House and the President," she said so dismissively that she almost sounded like she believed it, trying to drown out C.J.'s voice in her head from a year ago saying the exact opposite.

"Yeah," he said. Was that sadness she heard in his voice? _No, it couldn't be_, she thought.

"Anyway, she doesn't hate you. Quite the opposite, to an almost disturbing degree. Ever since..." she trailed off.

"Well, we had some big donors, so we're putting that into media buys. Get some new commercials on the air. Maybe show the Congressman in one of those cheese hats," Josh said, changing the subject.

Donna was thankful that Josh didn't pursue her line of thought. Germany was one more thing they needed to talk about, but she was too exhausted after being in four states that day.

"Considering how he wouldn't stop talking about the Texans game on the plane this morning, I don't think we'll get him cheering for Green Bay."

"I saw the MSNBC coverage," Josh said, changing the topic rapidly one more as he sometimes did. "You guys did great today."

"You think so? I just want today to be over."

"Why? Lou told me the Gulfport and Montgomery stops were great – we're going to get Joey Lucas to get a poll in the field about how Mississippi and Alabama responded, but I think we're going to see a good bump there – and that post-rally interview went great. He really knocked it out of the park," he said. "He had a great day, and a good part of that is on you."

"Thanks Josh," she said quietly, then added, "You must be shocked."

The words were out of her mouth before she knew it. She heard a sharp intake of breath on her phone.

"No, I knew you could do it, Donna. I know you're good. I wouldn't have had you pitch the idea if I didn't. Look, I should call..."

"You really think I'm good at this?" she asked, surprised.

"I know you are. Everyone who seen you this year does."

She couldn't help herself. "Then why wouldn't you hire me, Josh?"

"Donna..." he began softly.

"Why wouldn't you hire me? All I wanted was to help the Congressman – to help _you_, Josh. If you knew I was good, why wouldn't you let me work for you?"

"Donna, I really don't think..."

"Were you still that pissed at me? That upset that I went out and showed the world..."

"_No, damn it!_" he said, raising his voice. "No. You don't think I knew you were good, Donna? Why do you think I had that folder of your work?"

"So you could throw it in my face, like the petty - " she began angrily.

"_No_. You were good, Donna. You were too good." Josh was shouting now. "You spent half a year slamming my candidate, slamming the Congressman, throwing those witty little zingers around, making me and my team scramble to do damage control, and it made it that much harder for me to show people just how much Matt Santos had to offer. You were too good, Donna," he repeated, sadly.

"If you knew I was good at this, why not bring me on board?" she asked.

"Damn it, Donna..."

"Don't 'damn it, Donna' me, Josh. Why not?"

"Look, do you honestly think, if our positions were reversed, Will would have hired me if I came to him a few days after the convention? After everything I said about Bingo Bob? All of which was true, by the way?"

"President Bartlet did _not_ avoid him in the hallways," she said, cringing.

"He didn't go out of his way to talk to him."

"No he didn't... look, that's not the point. Of course Will would have hired you. You're the best at this, Josh."

"Donna... look, Will told me flat out in January that if we went negative, he wouldn't be able to hire me. Not that I would have worked for Bingo Bob in a million years... but when _you_ went negative, Donna, at that 'Coffee, Cake and Candidates' thing, I had to go negative too. And Will wouldn't have hired me."

"Will would not have wanted to cut you out."

"Yeah, well maybe your _mentor_," he said, his voice dripping with sarcasm, "the man you learned everything from, is that much better a man than I am. But if you think he would have hired me, Donna, you're sadly mistaken. He may have wanted to – just as much as I wanted to hire you – but he couldn't have done it."

"Josh – " she began.

"Look, there's no point talking about this now."

"Then when..."

"You did a good job. You should be proud. I got another call. I'll talk with you later, Donna."

The line went dead.

She collapsed on the bed. Why had she picked a fight? Josh was complimenting her, sharing a nice moment, and she picked a fight. Just like when she made that "_I meant Will_" crack when she was watching the Republican convention. Why did she do it? Why did she still want to argue?

Because she needed to know why, she thought. She needed to know why her mentor – and she hated that she made Josh think she didn't think of himself that way – the man who said he missed her every day, wouldn't hire her, if she knew she was good at this. Was it because of the comment about how much she learned from Will? Had she hurt him that much, that he'd cut off his nose to spite his face, denying her from using her talents to help the campaign? To help Josh?

All she wanted to do was help Josh.

But she came to the realization that Josh didn't know that. And why would he, really? When she couldn't stop tweaking him, fighting him, putting him down.

She didn't even want to, not really, but she just couldn't help getting mad sometimes about... well, about everything, but him not hiring was probably the biggest of all of them. She thought she was getting over this, after he talk with Leo, her epiphany afterwards, and the nice conversations she was having with him, but how she reacted yesterday and today showed she clearly wasn't, not matter how much she wanted to.

How were they going to get back on track if she kept _doing_ this?

And she didn't even get to talk with him about Ellie's wedding.

She pulled a pillow over her face and let out a scream of frustration.


	7. Chapter 6b

_[Author's note – I play a little with the timeline here, and have Will have information he doesn't on the show for five days after this, but it amused me too much to not do so._

_There's also a scene in here that's indebted to Shan's The Very Best We Know How, which I highly recommend to anyone who likes Season Seven Josh/Donna angst. You can find it over on Yahoo's Josh/Donna West Wing fanfiction list.]_

* * *

><p><em>September 19, 2006<em>

One of the downsides Donna found in working for a charismatic Presidential candidate was that the post-function meet-and-greets tended to take even more time than she expected. It was bad enough on the Russell campaign – the Vice President wasn't charismatic, but he was personable and had a good memory for names and faces, which impressed people he had met before – but it was a whole other level with Matt Santos. His breakfast speech was a hit with the Jacksonville Chamber of Commerce, and he tied his campaign's focus on education with a positive view of what more teachers, better schools and more successful students would mean for business and the economy. Everyone wanted to meet the Democratic nominee for President, and Mrs. Santos was slowly coming out of her shell as well.

Donna watched Helen Santos smile and make small talk with the people who came up to greet her and her husband, although she was clearly uncomfortable, if the way she kept looking at the clock on the wall was any indication. She was not a natural political wife, even after Matt Santos having been Mayor of Houston and a three-term congressman. Someone would have to give her some guidance if she was going to be First Lady, Donna had realized, although Mrs. Santos didn't seem to trust media handlers. Or politicians in general, except for her husband.

Donna called Lou after the breakfast, asking if there was anyone helping Mrs. Santos. Lou said she thought Annabeth Schott might have spoken with her in passing, but didn't think anyone else had.

"Look, why don't you do it?" Lou asked. "You've worked at the White House, and on the trail with Bingo Bob. You've seen the First and Second Ladies in action, more than anyone else here on the campaign."

When Donna demurred at that suggestion, stating that she'd never advised anyone like that, Lou's response was, "Like anyone else here has? Look, if you don't want to do it, I'll look for someone else. Amy Gardner used to advise Abigail Bartlet, and she was giving the Congressman some advise back before the New Hampshire primary – maybe we should call her."

"I don't think Amy and Helen Santos would really get along," Donna said. Donna herself didn't particularly want to have to deal with Amy again regularly – finding her footing with Josh was difficult enough on her own, let alone with the possibility of having to deal with his ex and her inevitable questions about Donna's relationship with Josh. Not that Donna was sure of anything about her and Josh these days. Beyond the personal, though, Donna had the feeling that Amy and Mrs. Santos would clash more than they got along, unlike Amy and Abigail Bartlet.

"Well, then maybe you should talk to her," Lou said. "You get along with everyone, except for maybe Josh, and that's because he's just an asshole."

Donna frowned at that. Despite her frequent bouts of thinking that herself, she didn't like hearing other people say things like that about him, even during the Russell campaign. At the time she thought it was about old loyalties dying hard, but now she was so confused in her thinking about him that she knew it was more than that. It was one thing for _her_ to be angry at Josh, to think he was an asshole to _her_, but even after everything it was still another matter entirely to hear someone else say that.

Focusing on the substance of her conversation, Donna said, "I'll talk with her, see if I can help her. See if she wants to talk to me, about things." She was still worried about Helen Santos seeing her as the "new girl", someone who was only six weeks from being the face of the enemy...

Which was essentially what Josh was saying last night, she realized. Did Josh have a point in not hiring her right after the convention? Was there more to it than just Josh being pissed that she left her job as his assistant?

Her thoughts were interrupted by Lou. "Good. Every little bit helps. You're doing great at this, and we're getting a lot of good media coverage. Did the Congressman tell you about Ellie Bartlet's wedding?"

"He said I was invited. Did they specifically mention me?"

"They did. Your old boss Will Bailey called me up to coordinate things, and he said you the Santoses, Josh and Leo were invited to the wedding. All the old Bartleteers," Lou said scornfully, which reminded Donna how little Lou cared for the current administration and their approach to the Santos campaign. "You're going on your own, though – only Leo gets a 'plus one'. So get yourself a new dress, and get ready to chat up all of D.C.'s movers and shakers."

Donna frowned a little. "That doesn't sound like the kind of wedding Ellie Bartlet would want. I don't know her at all, but she kept away from the whole political scene."

"Well, from what I hear, half the Democratic Party and a large part of the diplomatic corps are going to be there, so either she's had a change of heart, or this is more of a political function than a wedding. Either way, get ready to talk up the Congressman and the campaign in between crab puffs and champagne flutes."

After Donna hung up, she thought about her conversation with Josh the night before, and Josh's reasons for not hiring her back in July. Thinking about what he said, and about Ellie Bartlet's wedding, Donna decided to call the White House, and in short order was put through to the Communications Director.

"Donna!" Will greeted her warmly. "How is it working for Santos?"

"Hi Will," she said, just as happily. She and Will had become friends during the Russell for President campaign, in no small part due to them being virtually the only staffers over the age of twenty-five. He had turned out to be a fine boss, if a far more hands-off one than she was used to after working with Josh. She had learned a lot while working for him, although that was more due to him giving her the opportunity to go and do things completely on her own than a result of any real guidance on Will's part.

"It's going well," she continued. "New job, new people... mostly. Matt Santos is a different kind of candidate from Bob Russell."

"More charismatic?" Will asked.

"Well, yes," Donna said. "But he's also clearly not had advisers over the years in the way the Vice President has. He's more his own man... but I get the feeling his campaigns for the House, and for Mayor before that, were pretty much one-man shows. He doesn't take advice to heart, sometimes. It certainly makes him seem to be not a typical politician, which is good, but it means he sometimes won't listen to wiser heads around him, even when he really should."

"I got that impression during the primary season. Didn't seem to hurt him then – he would have withdrawn at the convention if he'd listened to what Leo was telling him."

Donna noted the regret in Will's voice. A part of her still shared that regret, but that was outweighed by the part of her who thought Matt Santos was turning into a strong candidate.

"It makes it a little more difficult – but fortunately that's not really my problem. I'm just a spokesperson. That's more Josh and Lou's problem. But look at you! Communications Director. You miss working for the Vice President?"

"Not really. He's not the same since the convention – he's really just marking time. The White House is the opposite – they're trying to cram every last bit of governing in while they still can. It's pretty exciting, actually. Not like it was last time I was here, though."

"Oh?"

"Everyone's gone, really. C.J.'s still here, and Charlie, although I don't see him much. Ed and Larry, of course – they've pretty much taken over Operations since C.J.'s new deputy Calley quit."

"Cliff's gone?" Donna asked. She never did take him up on that date during the primaries – he was a good guy, but when she thought about it, she'd never be able to get over the diary incident – but she was curious how he was doing.

"Yeah, he's pinch-hitting running Royce's campaign up in Pennsylvania since his previous campaign manager was caught with that cheerleader. There's Kate Harper... but that's pretty much it for people I know. It's just not the same as it was three years ago, though. No you, no Leo, no Josh, no... well, you know."

"Yeah, I do." They both went silent, thinking about just _why_ Will was able to be tapped to be the Communications Director.

Will's voice brightened. "Hey, did you get my message to Lou Thornton about Ellie's wedding?"

"Yes, I did. Whose idea was it to invite me? I don't really know Ellie."

Will's sigh was audible over the phone. "Yeah, this thing has really spun out of control. I got orders from on high to arrange this thing, but it's really not the wedding Ellie wants. She's quite unhappy – I think she just wanted a nice little wedding at her parents' house. But it's an election year, so..."

"But why me?"

"You don't want to come?" Will said, sounding surprised.

"No, it's not that at all. Who doesn't want to go to a White House wedding? It's just that I wasn't really somebody..."

"Donna, the President asked for you by name. He wants people from the campaign here, and he wants people he knows."

Donna couldn't help but smile.

"Anyway, you caught me while I was doing the seating arrangements. I put you down at a table with the South African ambassador and her husband, the Governor of New Hampshire and his wife, and Josh. It was either that or a table with the Canadian Prime Minister, and Kate says he's 'grabby'."

"He's not 'grabby'," Donna said, exasperated. "He's clumsy. He tripped. He tried to stop himself from falling, and that's why..."

"He grabbed the French First Lady's chest?"

"Yes. It was an accident. For God's sake, Will, he wouldn't try and get fresh with the French President's wife at a NATO summit! On camera! I read all about it in that Canadian newsmagazine Josh got me a subscription to for a laugh after he helped fix my citizenship thing."

"So do you want to sit with him then? It'd be him, his wife, the Governor of Missouri, Justice Mulready and _his_ wife."

_My parents' cats_, Donna thought, smiling at the memory. She hadn't thought about her small role in getting Chief Justice Lang and Justice Mulready on the Supreme Court since she left the White House.

"Donna?" Will asked, interrupting her reminiscence. "Which table would you like to be at?"

"The one with Josh," she said quickly.

"That's what I thought."

"Will, I actually called to ask you a question. If the convention had gone the other way, you would have made an offer to Josh, right? To work for the VP?"

"With the way he went negative? I couldn't have, Donna. Russell would have laughed me out of the room if I went to him with that, and even if he didn't, we couldn't have had Josh on the team after what he said," Will said.

"But he's the best at this."

"Doesn't matter. Anyway, he knew that's what would happen. We talked about it in New Hampshire – I was hoping to get a clean campaign pledge from him. Of course, at that point I was thinking Santos would flame out after the New Hampshire primary. Why are you asking?"

"Just something someone said," Donna obfuscated.

"Maybe if it had just been that 'cowpoke' thing, but when he started making those comments about Russell being a trained seal of the mining interests, well, true or not... maybe I would have asked him to provide some behind-the-scenes consulting, over the phone type stuff, but anything more, we couldn't have done."

"Oh."

There was silence for a few moments.

"Did someone say you shouldn't be on camera for Santos, Donna?"

"No, not exactly."

"Because you're good. You're as good for him as you were for Russell. And while I was surprised they hired you to be a spokesperson after how negative _we_ went in the primaries, I wasn't _too_ surprised. You're good, as I said, and well..."

"Well what?"

"Well, _Josh_ is running the campaign," Will said, in a tone which made it sound like his point was obvious.

"What does _that_ mean?"

"Donna..."

"What?"

"Donna," he said, using that tone again. "I was there, that night outside your apartment. The President's second inauguration? And I was there after the bombing in Gaza, when he flipped out, shouting he wanted to kill everyone involved with it. Everyone who was _happy_ about it. He was _consumed_. Then he flew to Germany in the middle of the crisis. And I remember how despondent he was when you joined the VP's campaign."

"What are you saying?"

"It's just... no matter how good you are, and you _are_, in Josh's shoes? _I_ probably wouldn't have hired you. But I'm not Josh."

Donna laughed, bitterly. "Josh didn't hire me, Will. I went to him for a job, right after the convention, and he didn't hire me. He read some of my quotes back to me, and said that's why he couldn't hire me."

"Makes sense. But he hired you eventually."

"Josh didn't. Lou Thornton did. Josh didn't want her to hire me."

"Well, as I said, if I were Josh, I would have done the same thing. I think you're lucky Vinick hasn't made this a thing. It could have consumed a news cycle or two, although you'd be able to spin it, I think, if they did – play the party unity card, 'on further reflection', that kind of thing." Will paused. "I have to get ready for my morning pummeling by the press."

Donna laughed at that.

"We're looking for a press secretary, if you're worried about it. I'd love for someone else to take the heat off of me," he said.

"No, I'm good where I am."

"Yeah, you are. I meant what I said before, though. About Josh."

"Yeah," she said, avoiding that topic any further. "Thanks for talking to me, Will. I'll see you at the wedding?" Donna asked.

"Ellie has made it clear I'm not invited. We had quite the weekend planning it. She wanted something just a touch smaller."

Donna chuckled. "I'll bet. Talk to you later, Will."

"Bye, Donna."

* * *

><p>It was amazing how much dust could accumulate in nine months, Donna though, as she entered her storage unit in the basement of her apartment building.<p>

Liliane, the rather twitchy woman from the Treasury Department, was subletting her apartment, and would be until the middle of December, and so Donna had moved all of her personal items downstairs. Her clothes, her books, her knickknacks... her mementos.

After her return from Jacksonville, Donna had a free afternoon, and felt herself compelled to come back here. She moved the boxes of clothing she hadn't packed – while there was probably something good in there that she could wear to Ellie Bartlet's wedding, she was going to treat herself to a new dress – something she could afford to do now, even having bought two nice dresses for fundraisers during the Vice President's campaign. But she wanted something new. This was the only White House wedding she'd to which she'd ever been invited, and with Miranda Santos being just a young girl, probably the only one she would ever attend, even if the Democrats retained the White House. The event demanded something new.

She moved some other boxes as well – her box of her old pictures from Wisconsin, the box of her letters she'd kept over the years – notes from her parents, from her friends back home, even the two letters Paul had managed to send during their years together, before she left him to join the Bartlet campaign. A part of her pondered throwing Paul's letters out, but she was never the kind to let go of memories, even painful ones. "Doctor Freeride" was long out of her life, and according to her mother had even been married, divorced and remarried in the eight years since she last saw him, but he was a still a part of her past, and an important one. Without him, without the disappointments of her relationship with him, she wouldn't be who she was in politics.

There was someone else without whom she wouldn't be a politician, either, she thought, as she got to the last box in the corner of her unit, one that had been covered and surrounded by her other boxes. She dusted the box off and opened it up, looked in and remembered.

She almost didn't keep the box at all. She had begun packing it after her return from Germany, after her disappointment that nothing at all had changed, after she came to the decision that nothing ever would change with Josh. So in went the birthday cards. In went the little keepsakes - dried flowers from his anniversary bouquets, stubs from Inaugural Ball tickets. In went the "Yale Law" t-shirt of his she wore as a nightshirt when she stayed over at his place after Rosslyn. In went the Yo Yo Ma CD Boxed Set he gave her for her birthday five years ago. (She made sure to rip it onto her iPod first, before tossing it in.) In went the pictures she had of them on the campaign trail, at the White House with the senior staff, on various trips around the country.

In went his ID card from the day she convinced him to hire her.

In went... everything. Well, almost everything.

The night after she quit the White House, in anger and frustration at Josh, his keeping her back, his refusing to even talk to her, she taped it up, grabbed it, and walked out the hallway to the garbage chute, fully intending to chuck it down and be done with it, done with her memories, done with him utterly. To have nothing to remind her of his arrogance, his condescension, his drag on her career...

Nothing to remind her of his taking her in, his taking her back, his smile, his laughter, his hand on her back, his taking the time to explain policy and politics to her, his obvious affection for her, even if it wasn't the love she wanted...

She couldn't do it. She knew that at some point, she might want to remember the good times they shared, and she couldn't do to _his_ memories what she'd never even done to Freeride's. She turned around, went back to her apartment, opened up the box, tossed in _the book_, resealed it, and lugged it down to the storage unit, putting it right in the corner, and surrounding it with other boxes, almost as if to stop the spirits and memories within from escaping.

And here she was, opening Pandora's Box once again.

There it was. Right on top. _Heimlich Beckengruber on The Art and Artistry of Alpine Skiing_. That night she quit, that night she was so angry, she wasn't going to just throw this one down the garbage chute with the rest of what she thought of at that moment as her "Josh shit". No, this one she was going to _burn_. She thought she needed to see the flames, destroying what was really the start of it all, turning it to ash, annihilating it and the source of all her problems, her heartache, her humiliation.

That inscription. The words that helped turn what had been a simple crush on her cute boss who was fun to banter and flirt with, who had always been so kind and sweet and snarky and annoying and great to work for, who had given her a new life, and then let her take it back not two months after she had recklessly thrown it away, into this... all-consuming love. This love that had gnawed away at her soul, made every attempt she had made at a relationship pale in comparison to him, kept her at her job long after she should have left, and that after years of trying to misdirect and hide from, had finally turned sour in disappointment at him, at herself, at their situation.

She didn't even need to see them, as the words had been seared into her mind over the years, but open it she did, there in the storage unit, and she read aloud for the first time since before CJ had torn her life to shreds the night of the lockdown:

"_Donna:_

_It's not exactly skis, but this book should show you how to use them. It's rare and strange and unique, just like you. What is isn't, and what it could never be, is as valuable as you are to me. Not for what you do for me at work, valuable as that is, but for you being simply who are are: Donnatella Moss._

_Merry Christmas,_

_Josh."_

As she had reopened the box of memories that night upon her return from the garbage chute, she tossed the book in without looking at it, for fear of what it would do to her, the reminder that he found her valuable – not just her as his assistant, but her as _herself_ – something she knew in her heart had never changed. She didn't want to face those words in light of her leaving him behind.

Now, looking at it, she was angry at herself for entertaining those thoughts, even if she hadn't acted up them, and she wondered how she could ever have wanted to part with it, see the words blacken into ash, rather than treasure it for what it was, and what she had once hoped it might mean.

What, to be honest with herself, she still hoped for, even after all these years.

Will had confirmed what Josh told her – he couldn't hire her. He _couldn't_. She hadn't believed Josh, but Will wouldn't have done so either, were he in Josh's shoes. And Josh told her he missed her.

She had to talk to him. She wasn't going to get mad at him anymore, like she had been. They were going to get through this, and she wasn't going to let him think any longer that she didn't appreciate everything he had done for her during their years together.

She tucked the book into her purse, and grabbed a couple of photos of just her and Josh as well – one of them together at some speech that Ginger had taken, showing Josh turned towards her, gesticulating and smirking, and her looking at him, shaking her head and smiling almost despite herself, and one that Danny had snapped at the one dance they got to dance at the President's second inauguration. She closed up the box, carefully, and brought it towards the front of the storage unit, set it down, and locked the door behind her.

* * *

><p>Josh just wanted to leave.<p>

He was in St. Paul, Minnesota for the second of a four Midwest fundraisers, wining and dining with the high and mighty of the Democratic-Farmer-Labor Party. The governor, Amanda Barrett, was the most popular politician in the state, and had agreed to both speak on Matt Santos' behalf, and help Josh solicit donors, but it had been a long evening for Josh, and he was tired.

He was always tired these days – really, he'd been tired for years, but these last few years, since the last presidential election, had been the hardest of his life, and it was just getting harder. He could sleep for days, really, if there wasn't so much to do. It was so bad that Senator Howard Stackhouse, 85 years old and running for re-election, had taken him aside and asked about his health, telling him he looked terrible. They had a pleasant conversation, with the Senator fondly reminiscing about his work with Santos on the Patients' Bill of Rights, and the Senator telling Josh they missed his presence in Washington, and how he looked forward to working with Josh again after both he and Matt Santos won their respective campaigns in November.

Senator Stackhouse's vote of confidence was the highlight of Josh's day, other than a quick conversation with Joey Lucas and Kenny Thurman before he left Milwaukee that morning. Joey was going to be polling Iowa, Indiana, Illinois, Michigan and Ohio, to see how the numbers had changed in the last week – general voting intentions, favorables versus unfavorables, and the relative strengths of Matt Santos versus Arnold Vinick on the issues of defense, education, economic management and which candidate was seen as more presidential. Joey was confident there would be a major boost for the Santos campaign throughout the Midwest this week.

In between those two conversations, though, it had mostly been a trying day. While he was greeting and schmoozing the various politicians and interested citizens among the DFL tonight, he had been repeatedly questioned by a number of people about his campaign decisions, each of them implying that Josh was fumbling some major decisions. One or two instances of this were expected – people who didn't have to make the decisions often thought they could do it much better than those who had to make them – but it was wearing him down. It seemed the better the campaign did, the more Josh himself came in for criticism from, well, almost everyone.

So Josh was spending a few minutes on his own, drinking a club soda out in the hallway, trying to avoid the other attendees and sneak a few minutes on his own.

His Blackberry started buzzing. Looking at the call display, he was conflicted. A large part of him wanted nothing more than to talk to Donna, banter with her and let her get him out of this funk. But then he realized that wasn't _them_ anymore – that wasn't her role in his life. They were slowly cobbling their friendship back together, but it was a difficult process. Each step forward seemed to be countered by one more indication of her resentment of him. Part of him just wanted to let her go to voicemail, not wanting to risk having her pile onto his already bad day.

But avoiding Donna was something he never really wanted to do – look what happened when he dodged all those lunches – so he answered.

"Hey."

"Hey Josh. How's Minnesota?"

"Same as yesterday, just Viking hats instead of cheeseheads. You haven't lived until you've seen Senator Stackhouse singing in a helmet and breastplate, with Governor Barrett in the Bugs Bunny role."

Donna laughed – that was a good sign.

"I'm sure, Josh. I talked to Will today. I'm sorry for what I said yesterday. I didn't know."

Josh sighed. There was a time Donna would have believed him without having to get assurance from Will Bailey... "I didn't have a choice, Donna. Not then."

"I know that now," Donna said. "I just thought, you know, that after... well, I never thought I wouldn't be able to come back to work with you."

It didn't seem politic to bring up that she never would have had to come back if she hadn't left in the first place.

"You're back now," he said, his voice clogged with emotion.

"I am."

In the silence that followed, Josh knew Donna was hesitating about something.

"I should get back – " he began.

"I _am_ sorry about, you know, yesterday, and some other times, if I ever made you think... Look, I learned some things from Will, but I never would have been able to if I hadn't learned so much more from you over the years. You _know_ that, right?"

Josh didn't know what to say.

"Josh?"

"Yeah. Sorry, I just... thanks, Donna," he said quietly.

"I just... I wanted you to know," she said, and Josh knew she was smiling that little shy smile of hers.

"Damn it, the State Senate Majority Leader is looking for me. He wanted me to meet some hockey guy. I think the owner of the, what's the team here? The North Stars?"

"Not for years, Josh. When are you back in Washington? We should get a drink, maybe talk about... things."

"I get back on Friday morning."

"And then I'm in Pittsburgh and Philadelphia until Ellie Bartlet's wedding."

"Ellie _married_. Can you believe it? I thought we'd end up going to Zoey's wedding before Ellie's, especially back in the first term before she and Charlie split up."

"I hear they got back together, though," Donna said.

"Oh? Good for them! I know Charlie never stopped hoping. I helped him sneak into the National Arboretum, you know the night that Zoey was... Well, good for them. Team Charlie!" Josh said.

"It's nice to know there's second chances sometimes," Donna said softly. "You should save me a dance on Saturday. Okay?"

"Okay. We haven't danced in... God, I don't know how long. That sounds... nice."

"Yeah. And we'll talk afterwards, right?" she said, and Josh thought – hoped – he heard hope in her voice.

"'Kay."

"Good. Now go get that hockey guy to write a big check."

"Will do. Good night, Donna."

"Good night, Josh."

As he ended the call, Josh nodded to the State Senate Majority Leader, and headed over, a smile on his face.


	8. Chapter 7a

_[Author's note: My story veers rather wildly AU here. Thanks go to chai4anne for some suggestions for this and subsequent chapters, for her betaing, and for being someone to bounce ideas off of. Part of the exchange in the second scene was cribbed directly from Episode 7.09 - "The Wedding" - written by John Singer.]_

* * *

><p><em>September 23, 2006<em>

The knives were sharpening, and Josh knew it.

He'd had people second-guessing him for weeks. Not just the usual armchair strategists, but increasingly important members of the Democratic Party. He was used to this, of course. Josh had had his detractors his whole career, and it had only gotten worse since he left the White House to run Matt Santos' long-shot campaign for the presidency.

The victory at the convention didn't seem to help things, and Lou's comment before the Congressmen hired her as Communications Director about the whole campaign being a "Josh Lyman Vanity Exercise" showed that his naysayers hadn't stopped. Josh knew there were powerful members of the party questioning his strategy and his management of the campaign. People who never thought Matt Santos had any chance of winning any of the primaries, let alone the party's nomination, and who never thought Josh would be able to take a virtually unknown three-term congressman as far as he had now thought Josh didn't have the skill to take Matt Santos through the final six-week stretch of the campaign.

And since the Illinois tracking poll came out yesterday showing an unexpected five-point bump, a poll confirmed by Joey Lucas this morning, they now had something concrete to point to. In a tremendous irony, the five-point increase in Matt Santos' polling numbers in Illinois had made Josh's position _worse_, for he had ordered the campaign to go dark in Illinois weeks ago, when Matt Santos' numbers were terrible there, to not spend any more money in that state. And people were questioning why on earth Josh would do such a thing, in a state that had twenty-one electoral votes, and in a state where they just increased five percent in voting intentions even without media exposure. Why, they thought, had Josh done that? They must have thought that _they _wouldn't do that, and that Josh was obviously wrong to pull out of Illinois earlier in the campaign.

Never mind that the price of not going dark in Illinois would have been going dark in Wisconsin and Washington – two states which were far more marginal than they should be, and never mind that he hadn't heard anyone suggesting this before the tracking poll came out; Josh knew that people were pointing to Illinois as proof that he was in over his head. After all, they would say, he was passed over for Chief of Staff. He was pulled from the China trip. He was washed up.

But until today, he hadn't thought his job was on the line. But despite his conversation with former Democratic National Committee Chair Barry Goodwin, and Goodwin's words of support, he didn't feel any safer than he had when he first became aware of the mutters against him this morning.

He'd confirmed the numbers today with Joey – they were probably safe in Washington State now, and the numbers in Wisconsin were favorable enough that Josh had ordered the campaign just an hour ago to switch resources from both those states to Illinois, to try and capitalize on the polling bump. He hoped the spillover effect from Wisconsin into Chicagoland (downstate Illinois was a write-off for the Democratic Party, even now) that he'd been hoping for, and that was probably responsible for most of the bump they'd gotten in the Prairie State, would work in reverse, and have some effect in Milwaukee and southern Wisconsin. He trusted liberal Madison would vote for Matt Santos even without a continuing media presence.

As he thought of Madison, his eyes automatically sought out a former resident of the Wisconsin capital. Donna was across the room, talking animatedly to Ed and Larry. She was wearing a dress he hadn't seen before, one he couldn't quite decide whether was brown or olive. It wasn't his favorite color on her, whatever it was – he always preferred her in red or blue – but it looked great on her. Of course, he thought pretty much everything looked great on her.

God, he missed her.

Larry must have seen his staring, and gave him a friendly wave. That naturally made Ed look up and wave at him, and Donna look as well.

The smile she gave him was almost – _almost_ – one of those high-wattage ones she used to bestow on her all the time. Back before she left. Before Gaza.

Josh smiled and waved back. Donna looked at him, as if inviting him to come over, but before he could go to her, he was interrupted.

"Hey, Josh."

It was Will Bailey. Josh hadn't seen him since he brought beer and watched Matt Santos and Leo accept the nomination of the Democratic National Convention with Donna and him. Josh had always liked Will, and didn't like how running opposing primary campaigns set the two against one another.

"Will. How are you liking being Communications Director?"

"It's like I'm the runt of the schoolyard, being pelted with snowballs from every direction. Occasionally an iceball gets through and beans me."

"You guys going to hire a Press Secretary?"

Will should his head. "Apparently CJ likes seeing me dodge, weave, and then get punched in the head."

"Yeah, well if you get feeling too bad, dig out my one and only press briefing. I think CJ had it transferred to DVD, she liked it so much."

"Crashed and burned, did you?"

"You mean you've never heard of the my secret plan to fight inflation debacle?"

Will laughed. "No, but it sounds like I should have. What happened?"

"I would have thought that Don... someone would have told you."

Will looked at Josh seriously. "No. No one ever did. Donna didn't really ever talk about you on the campaign, Josh."

Josh felt uncomfortable. It had been a rough year for them, but he would have at least thought she'd mention him sometimes.

Will continued. "Even right at the end when the Vice President wanted to get Santos on his ticket, and we were trying to get her to tell us what she thought you might do or what your strategies were, she didn't tell us anything we could us against you. She was completely loyal to us, but she was still loyal to you, too. I was impressed."

Josh didn't know what to say. "Was Russell?"

"Not quite as much." There was some silence for a moment. "Hey, you guys are doing great. Only seven points behind Arnold Vinick. That's not too bad especially for a candidate no had ever heard of a year ago."

"Yeah, we're pretty happy," Josh said.

"I'm hearing some rumors, though. Senator Montgomery was saying you should have been in Illinois all along. He's not happy. And I was speaking to the deputy chair of the D-Triple-C, who said the same thing."

"Everyone's a Monday-morning quarterback," Josh said, trying to show more confidence than he felt.

"Tell me about it. Montgomery did the same thing to me all through the primaries, telling me how I should have been running the VP. Of course, seeing as we lost, he might have had a point."

"Yeah, maybe."

"But Santos is doing much better than anyone expected. I'm sure there's nothing to worry about. Oh, there's Kate. Gotta go. Best of luck, Josh," Will said, heading off in the direction of Kate Harper.

It was gratifying to hear, even obliquely, that he had been right that Will tried to use Donna against him during the campaign. It was even more gratifying, of course, to hear that even in the middle of their estrangement, Donna was still loyal. Will didn't have to tell him that, and Josh was glad he had.

He shook his head. He really screwed everything with Donna up. He had so much to talk to her about, about why they had ended up where they had, about Germany and afterwards, about how he felt after she left, about his many regrets about how he'd never told her how much he appreciated her, how much he cared about her and for her, about how much he...

Well, he had a lot to talk to her about, and a lot of regrets to make up for when it came to Donna. If, God willing, he wasn't tossed off the campaign, he promised himself he would take the time to do that whenever he could. Starting tonight. She had promised him a dance after all.

Time to go talk to her.

Josh looked back to where Donna had been, but she wasn't there anymore.

* * *

><p>Josh sat on the stairs, staring at the electoral map. He could stop looking at it, thinking about what he could do differently with moving money around, thinking about what he could have done differently if only he'd made different choices.<p>

He'd had a three congressmen and two members of the party brass come up to him so far, telling him that the campaign had to get back into Illinois, but whatever happened, not to pull out of whatever state they were from. One of the PR flaks for the Democratic Senatorial Campaign Committee had asked him point-blank what he was thinking abandoning Illinois so early in the campaign, and hinted that Josh wouldn't be making those mistakes for long if he were in charge. The fact that he would never be qualified to run for dogcatcher, let along president, was little consolation.

He wished they would hurry up and start the wedding, but it was being delayed for some reason. Something was happening – he had seen CJ, Kate Harper and Nancy McNally rushing about, and the President was nowhere to be found. But Josh had no idea what was going on. He was out of the loop now, had been since the minute he had told Jed Bartlet that he was resigning to try and get Matt Santos elected as his replacement.

He missed it.

Sometimes he wondered whether he should have simply stuck it out at the White House, endured the ongoing low-grade humiliation of CJ being promoted three full grades to be his boss and then using Charlie to issue commands to him, endured being sidelined from the China trip and who knows what else. He wondered sometimes what his life would have like had he never convinced Matt Santos to run for president, and had Josh stuck with being Deputy Chief of Staff.

And sometimes he wondered if Sam hadn't had the right idea after all, if Josh should have left on Election Day 2002 on a high note, and done something else – ran for Congress, worked for someone else, gotten a position at the Democratic National Committee, or even left politics altogether. Of course, he never would have considered it then, but now...

Now with Josh certain there was going to be a move to dump him, it didn't seem like either would have been such a bad move in hindsight.

A part of him couldn't believe they would consider shuffling the campaign this late in the game. Another part wondered what took them so long.

Josh was interrupted from his brooding by a shadow descending the stairs. He knew from seven long years of practice, even despite the last year of estrangement, that it was Donna.

"Fried wonton?" she asked, brandishing a plate with the aforementioned appetizers on them.

"Hey," he said, looking up at her.

She sat down next to him. They weren't quite touching, but Josh thought he could feel the heat radiating from her. It was probably just his imagination, he thought, or his own awareness that they were sitting closer to one another than they had been since before she left for Gaza.

"Really, they're pretty good," she said, tiling her head to the plate.

"Yeah?" he said, not really looking at her. The last thing he wanted to think when his career was on the line was food.

"They're out of champagne, though. The First Lady just gave me twenty bucks and told me to pick up a bottle of Cold Duck," Donna said. Josh didn't respond. "Josh," she said.

"I'm sorry. Have you seen Leo?" Josh asked. Leo would know what was going on.

"I'm bored," she said, looking at him. "I'm an attractive woman waiting to be entertained."

That drew his attention. He turned to look at her in the dress which he was now pretty certain was olive. "I'm sorry, Donna. You really are," he said softly.

She gave him her shy little smile. "You clean up nicely yourself," she said quietly. "What do you have there?"

He showed the map to her. "I'm trying to figured out what I can do – how I'm going to get money in Illinois. I've told Lou that we're going to go dark in Washington and Wisconsin. We're safe enough in both... I hope. You're parents are going to vote the right way?"

"They voted for the President last time," she said.

"More than you can say yourself," he teased.

She lightly slapped his arm, her smile belying the gesture. "Like you've never made a mistake yourself, buster."

She hadn't used a teasing name for him in so long, it almost made him not think about the impact of what she said. He looked down at the map and away from her. "Yeah, not so much."

"You can't predict the polls, Josh. It wasn't a mistake."

"I should have known. _Leo_ would have known."

"Like Leo's never made a mistake himself. It'll be fine, Josh."

"Will it? Are you still hearing rumors? Because I've been facing the discontent of the party all afternoon."

"I am. But it's just the usual grumbling, I'm sure. Worried people letting off a little steam. We're getting back into Illinois, we'll do great. It will blow over."

Josh wished she sounded more confident.

"Now have a wonton," she said, holding one up to his mouth. "You're looking malnourished."

"You don't have to do that, Donna," he said, taking a bite of the wonton.

"Yeah, but why make you get your own when I have an extra right here?"

"That's not what I mean. Comforting me, reassuring me, bringing me food... it's not your job anymore."

"It never really was, Josh," she said, a hint of annoyance creeping into her voice. "It's not about that. It's about looking out for a friend."

"Thanks."

"You've done the same for me, too, Josh, and that was never remotely your job, either. You and me, we're more than the jobs, aren't we?"

Josh let out a harsh, bitter laugh and shook his head. "I don't even remember what it's like to be about more than the job, Donna."

"I do. I remember you dropping the job once to comfort and reassure me. An ocean away even." She reached out and squeezed his hand. "I never told you how much that meant to me, Josh. You didn't have to do that, but you were there when I needed you."

"I did have to do, that, Donna. I didn't have a choice. I couldn't not be there," he said, squeezing her hand back. "I had to make sure you were okay. If you weren't okay, I don't know what I'd have done."

"Grieved and moved on," she said.

"Grieved and never moved on, more like it."

She smiled. "The Lyman Guilt."

"No, well, yes, I suppose, but not just that. I couldn't have gone on without you."

Donna opened her mouth, but quickly shut it again.

After a moment, Josh went on. "You were there when I needed you, too, by the way. So many times. I never thanked you for that. Or, you know, for anything, really. For everything you did for me, or for the Administration. I should have, I should have let you know... how much I appreciated it. Both back then and since then."

Tears appeared in Donna's eyes.

"Oh, damn... I'm sor – "

She cut him off by squeezing his hand again. "Don't you dare apologize for that, Josh," she said, smiling at him.

They sat in silence for a minute or so.

"It's been a while since we've been dressed up together," Josh said. "The Presidential Library thing, right?"

"I think so. Some time when I was hobbling around on crutches. It'll be easier to dance tonight. Remember you owe me one."

Josh was just about to respond when Representative Larry Inboden walked up the stairs. "Josh! Only seven points down, I see. Hell of a thing," he said, holding out his hand to be shaken.

"Congressman," Josh said warmly, taking it.

"And Donna, I understand you're the one to thank for Matt Santos coming to Mississippi," Inboden said.

"It was the Congressman's decision, sir," Donna said.

"Please. I know how it goes. We're getting a hell of a bump. Won't win us the state in the electoral college, but I know Hicks thinks he might win his district. Keep up the good work, you two," Inboden said before moving on.

"See, Josh? It'll be fine."

Just as she said it, though, Senator George Montgomery came up to them. "Josh? Do you have a moment?"

Josh got up and followed him, looking back one last time at Donna. After having so long apart, he couldn't tell anymore whether she was as worried as he felt just then.

* * *

><p>This could only be bad.<p>

George Montgomery had never liked Josh. He was one of the loudest voices on the Hill demanding Leo fire Josh after Chris Carrick's defection to the Republicans, he was a prominent backer of Bob Russell in the primaries, and his concern that Illinois was mishandled confirmed to Josh that Montgomery was among those calling for his replacement.

Montgomery led Josh into the East Room, where Matt Santos and Barry Goodwin were standing. "Josh, I'm sure your aware there have been some... concerns. About the direction the campaign is going," Montgomery said.

"Don't misunderstand, Josh," Goodwin said. "Where you've taken the Congressman so far, no one would have imagined it in January. And we've got a real shot in November, at the White House, and maybe the House of Representatives."

"But some of the decisions you've made, Josh... we could be leading in Illinois right now if you'd been in there from the beginning."

"It was a strategic decision, Senator. The campaign doesn't have enough money to be everywhere at once – " Josh said, before he was interrupted.

"I'm aware of that, Josh. But perhaps if you'd picked your media markets better, or made some harder choices, my home state wouldn't be tilting to Vinick right now!" Montgomery said.

"George," Goodwin said, calmly. Clearly he was the 'good cop'. "Josh, you've done a hell of a job, but it's six weeks out, we're still seven points back. We really have a chance to win this thing if we do this right. But I've been getting calls from the party elders for days demanding a shake-up in the campaign, and there's only so long I can put them off."

Matt Santos had so far said nothing.

"Look, Barry... Senator Montgomery..." Josh said. "Our strategy is working. We're gaining every week. Every day more Americans are learning what a great leader we have in the Congressman. We're going to catch Vinick."

"But are you making the right decisions, Josh?" Montgomery asked. "Hell, you had the Congressman wasting a day, wasting money in Mississippi and Alabama, for God's sake. States we don't have a hope in hell of winning. Why are you wasting time there?"

"Because it's America, Senator! Matt Santos isn't just going to be president of the blue states, and we need to show people that the Congressman is going to be there working for all Americans. Even ones who might not vote for him. Because when people see that, the ones who might otherwise not might just pull our lever in November."

"And how much money did you waste on those 'mights', Josh?"

"The state parties footed the bill."

"And you wasted a day in the Republican Solid South when the campaign could have been in Illinois if you hadn't gone dark!"

"It wasn't a waste, Senator!" Josh was now straining not to raise his voice. "We have a chance to win house seats we haven't won since President Newman! And if it takes foregoing a couple afternoon events in Jacksonville, where the Congressman was still going to speaking anyway, then why _not_? Are we a national party or not? Are we running for _every_ American or not?" Josh stopped, and said quietly, "It wasn't a waste."

Montgomery and Goodwin looked at one another, and looked at Santos.

Matt Santos put his hand on Josh's shoulder. "Josh, you know I never could have got this far without you."

_Oh, God..._

"If you hadn't come down to Houston, I never would have thought about running. If it weren't for you, I never would have won the nomination, and gotten this far, but I think what I'm hearing is right. I think the campaign needs a shake-up. I still want your counsel, Josh – you're invaluable – but I think we need to change what we're doing, and I think I need to signal to the party that we're serious about it."

"Congressman..." Josh said quietly.

"I'm going to move you to a new position – Executive Director for Political Strategy. I want your advice – hell, Josh, I need your advice – but we're going to be getting someone else to manage the campaign on a day-to-day basis," Santos said.

"Who?"

"Leo McGarry."

"But he's... he's running for VP! He can't do both!"

Goodwin spoke up. "He's going to be with the campaign anyway. He's the architect of Jed Bartlet's win. There's no one else better than him."

"No, there isn't," Josh couldn't help but agree.

"So it's not like we're replacing you with someone untried," Goodwin said.

"Just kicking me upstairs?"

"Josh, it's not like that," Montgomery said.

"It's not? Because it sure – "

Josh was interrupted by Ginger poking her head in. "They're going to be ready to start in about ten minutes. Hey, Josh! Great to see you!" Josh feebly returned her warm and friendly smile, before she left the room.

"Enjoy the ceremony, and take the evening off of the campaign, Josh. We'll talk tomorrow," Santos said.

Santos, Goodwin and Montgomery exited the room, leaving Josh just standing there, wondering what to do now.

What he really wanted to do was just leave, get out of the White House, find some place away from the stares and mutterings of those people who he knew were gloating. Avoid the whispers and snickering, just get out and be someplace where no one knew him, where they'd never heard of Josh Lyman. Get away from everyone who was happy at his latest downfall, and get away from the pitying looks he knew were coming.

But as he left the room, he saw people heading towards the ceremony. Much as he wanted to get away, he knew he owed it to Jed Bartlet to watch his middle daughter get married. He owed it to Abbey. He owed it to Ellie. And he owed it to himself, to watch a young woman he'd always liked on the happiest day of her life.

Someone should be happy today.

Tempting as it was to just leave, he wanted to see the ceremony. He'd get away afterwards.

* * *

><p>Donna sat watching the ceremony from the middle of the guests, looking between Ellie and groom and the empty chair next to her that she put her purse on.<p>

Where the hell was Josh? She hoped he would sit next to her – keep the Santos contingent together at least, although she was honest enough with herself to know that wasn't the real reason her purse was there – but looking around the pews as unobtrusively as she could, she didn't see him at all.

She looked around to the back, and there by the doorway, saw him standing there.

He looked terrible. She'd gotten out of practice about judging Josh's moods by a glance, but something had happened. Some breaking news that would hurt the campaign, perhaps, or perhaps he was just letting the rumors about Illinois get to him. He tried to catch his eye, but didn't want to look away from the ceremony for too long.

She'd talk to him at dinner. Find out what was wrong. And try to cheer him up.

She smiled to herself. They might be out of practice, but she knew she could always cheer him up.


End file.
